Tale of Years: Outtakes
by Jessica314
Summary: ***New Chapter: 1949: Maria POV*** This is an ongoing collection of outtakes from my Tale of Years series. Most of them can be read alone as Twilight Prequel one-shots, all canon-friendly. More details inside...
1. Intro and Index by Year

**I am very excited to open up this "folder" of outtakes! Each chapter will be an outtake from one of the Tale Of Years stories- either an existing scene in another POV, or a behind-the-scenes scene (meaning a scene that was skipped over, or happened "off-stage" from Edward's POV).**

**I would really like to have a lot of reader input for the ideas, so please feel free to request outtakes as you go along. I think this will be a fun way for everyone to pitch in and have a hand in the writing, and it can be my way of saying thank you to everyone who has been enjoying the Tale of Years along with me. I am having a blast with this series- the writing itself has been such a growing experience for me, but also the feedback and interest of everyone is always such an inspiration, and makes it really fun. THANK YOU! :) **

**NOTE: Some of you have requested scenes that occur outside the timeline of Tale of Years (ex- newborn Carlisle). That is fine, but for now I want to focus on scenes that are more related to the Series- though some of those scenes do occur outside the timeline, as well (like the 1921 one). Eventually I plan to expand this folder to include any and all prequel one-shots, but for now I will be sticking more to the events of the Series.**

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**Here is an index of the Outtakes that you will find here, in chronological order by year:**

**3. 1920-42ish: Awakening (Alice's awakening and visions)**

**2. 1921: Monster (Carlisle finds out the truth about Charles Evenson)**

**4. 1927: Daydream (Edward fantasizing about human blood, a few weeks before he leaves)**

**7. 1927: Failure (Carlisle's POV of Edward's departure and the day following)**

**8. 1931: Complete 1 of 2 (Carlisle's POV of Edward's return)**

**9. 1931: Complete 2 of 2 (Carlisle's POV of Edward's return)**

**5. 1948: Finally! (Alice's POV of the day she meets Jasper)**

**6. 1948: Hope (Jasper's POV of the day he meets Alice)**

**13. 1949: Glory Days (Maria decides to go looking for Jasper)**

**10. 1950: Arrival 1 of 2 (Jasper's reflections of his two years alone with Alice, and the beginning of their journey to the Cullen Family)**

**11. 1950: Arrival 2 of 2 (Jasper's POV of their journey and meeting the Cullens)**

**12. 1950: First Shopping Trip (Esme and Rosalie taking Alice shopping for the first time)**


	2. 1921: Monster

**Okay, this seemed to be the favorite so far, so here we go: the scene where Carlisle almost went out and killed Charles Evenson. While this scene was never discussed in canon, there had to be a moment when Carlisle first learned the truth about Charles, and I like to think that this was one time that he truly lost his cool.**

**This scene was first referenced in 1927, Chapter 7 (Hunt). This was also the chapter in which Edward killed Charles, and began his human diet. Carlisle would have learned this at the end of the 1931 story, when he read Edward's journals. This scene was also referenced in 1933, Chapter 5 (Interlude), during Carlisle and Edward's argument, and in Chapter 10 (Anger), in which Esme tells Rosalie about Charles, and Edward finally tells Esme that Charles is dead.**

**Warning: Domestic abuse is obviously a theme here, and though it is not explicitly described, there are some details given. Please, if this is a sensitive topic for you, consider skipping this one.**

**Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga and its universe at the property of Stephenie Meyer. No profit is made here and no offense intended.**

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**Carlisle POV**

It was one of those kisses that makes time lose all meaning.

We had come into my office- which doubled as the family library- to find my copy of _Gulliver's Travels_. Esme had just had one of her "surprise memories", as she called them. She was just five months old, and while many of her human memories were lost forever, she would occasionally gasp out loud and excitedly tell me something that she had suddenly remembered for the first time. It turned out that she had been reading this particular book on the day she had gone into labor with her son, and had never finished it. I thought it an odd choice for my gentle, sweet-spirited wife- Jonathan Swift wasn't exactly known for his generous views. But in her human life, as now, my Esme had been quite intelligent, and interested in any story which examined human culture.

So when she said that she would like to finish _Gulliver's Travels_ someday, I pulled her here into my office to give her my own copy. But on the way to the built-in bookshelves on the far wall, we had somehow ended up here in the deep leather chair which sat just in front of the shelves. Instead of reaching for the shelves, just twelve inches away, my hands found themselves tangled in her hair, and as soon as my lips met hers, time stopped.

It was a peculiar thing- something humans weren't capable of. We sat there, both frozen mid-kiss, our eyes open and staring, for an entire minute. Three minutes. Even when we heard the front door close quietly- Edward making his discreet escape- we didn't blink. Nine minutes.

Six hours.

Ten…

Somewhere in the middle of the night, we finally closed our eyes and came to life again. But it wasn't until another four hours later that Esme suddenly giggled, breaking my concentration.

"Hmm?" I murmured into her back.

"Weren't you supposed to go to work tonight?" she asked playfully, stretching like a cat as I sat back up.

"Is it evening already?" I asked, blinking at the window. When had it gotten dark?

"It's five in the morning," she laughed, nodding toward the clock on the mantle.

"Oh!" I sat up fully, but relaxed again after a moment. "What's the point? My shift is almost over, anyway," I said lazily, closing my eyes again. I had taken off work for a full month, saying that I was travelling to the wild jungles of Brazil to kickstart a medical clinic. I had my presentation already done, and pictures to boot. Of course, Edward had staged and taken them all the day before the wedding, but they didn't need to know that. I still wished that I could have told my colleagues the truth- that I was getting married- but it was too risky. Esme was still new, and all it would take was one well-wisher stopping by the house to meet the new Mrs. Cullen. Maybe we could get married again, in a couple of years…

"You, Mrs. Cullen, are a bad influence," I growled, tracing her ear. "I've never missed a shift in my life without calling in. What if I get fired?"

She snorted a laugh into my shoulder, but then raised her head, looking around. "What are we doing in this room, anyway?" she asked loudly.

She was a sight. Her voice had a drunken pitch to it, her hair was going all sorts of ways, and her blouse was on inside out. We had been married for exactly three weeks, two days, six hours and thirty-nine minutes. How had I survived before marrying her, again?

"I believe we were looking for a book. _Gulliver's Travels_?"

She raked both her hands through her hair, her eyes roaming through the top row of the bookshelves. But I knew where every book was in this room, and I realized, hiding my smile, that the book in question was actually on the shelf right behind my head. Fourteenth from the left. I would reach behind my head at vampire speed, and present it to her without either of us getting up.

I raised my hand back toward the shelf, letting a mischievous smile grow on my lips as her sparkling eyes moved back to mine. But that was when it happened.

A human would never have seen it, but I did. As my hand flew up beside my head to reach the book, Esme flinched, jerking her face away from me slightly. She had already recovered herself by the time I had the book in my hands, but it clattered uselessly to the floor.

It had been centuries since I had been truly warm- having no circulation does that to a man. But for the first time in my long life, I felt _cold_. I sat unmoving, frozen as she reached behind the chair to pick up the book and began flipping through it, looking a little too studious.

I had been a physician long enough to know what it was that I had just seen. When I finally found my voice, it sounded far away.

"Esme, you thought that I… you couldn't… surely you didn't think I was going to _hit_ you?"

Her eyes flew away from mine, just for a second, as she tensed again. "Of course not," she said quickly, forcing her eyes back up. "You just startled me."

I shook my head slowly, wishing that I could believe her. But I knew-I knew all too well- that people didn't flinch like that unless they had been abused before. I was suddenly aware of all the things I didn't know about my wife yet, and it made me feel sick. I immediately thought of her first husband, Charles Evenson. Esme had never told me much about him- in fact, she seemed to avoid the subject. I had always had the general impression that she had never been happy with him, but until this moment, I had never thought to press further.

We sat in frozen silence, the book forgotten on her lap. "Was it Charles?" I whispered. She nodded, her eyes closing. What was she remembering right now? Had I just made her discover new memories, painful ones? I wanted to tear off my right hand and burn it. I was suddenly aware of all the places my body was touching hers, and I was torn between the desire to hold her closer, and the need to move away, to give her space. My hands decided for me, and in an instant, she was crushed against my chest, crying as she dug her fingers into my shirt.

"I was going to tell you. I was going to tell you, eventually," she said between sobs. "I just wanted to forget him. I thought if I didn't ever say any of it out loud, that maybe some of the memories would go away. And we're been so happy, these last couple of months, I didn't want to ruin it. I'm sorry…"

"Sorry? Oh, Esme…" I began to weep, as well, as I held her even tighter. How could anyone _hurt_ her? The very idea was beyond blasphemy. Esme was the most precious woman in the whole world! How could anyone even _conceive_ of hurting her? What kind of monster…

For the first time, I suddenly wished that I knew what Charles looked like. I needed a face, I needed something to picture to match the rage that was quickly building in my chest. My weeping stopped and my hands began to shake even as I held her, and the venom began to flow into my mouth. If I hadn't been holding her right now, I would have run out of the house, right then. But she was still crying, and I was paralyzed, but for the tremors and the rumbling snarl that I was desperately trying to keep silent. I had never felt this angry before. Ever.

She finally stopped, wiping her already-dry eyes out of habit. "I want to tell you now," she said flatly. "I want to tell you everything."

"Esme, don't, please," I begged, putting my fingers over her mouth. She was probably right- if she spoke any of it out loud, it would make the memories more real. If I could do anything to erase them, I would.

She pulled my hand away. "No, I need to tell you. I want you to know everything about… me. And once I say it all, tonight, I won't ever have to say any of it again." But then she looked at me in worry. "Unless _you_ don't want to hear it? I didn't think about that."

"No, you're right. I _do_ want to know everything." I had already changed my mind. Psychology was still a piecemeal, fledgling field- it could hardly be called a science yet- but at least it was agreed upon that it was healthy to talk about the trauma that one had endured, rather than keeping it hidden. With the right person, of course. And I did need to know the details, so that I would never again make the horrible mistake I had just made with my hand. I sucked in my breath as I began to wonder if I had missed other signs, before now. Every gesture, every word suddenly took on new meaning as my mind flew through everything Esme had said and done since I had changed her. I forced the thought away, bracing myself for what I was about to hear.

It took her a while to get started. Several times she opened her mouth, and instead of speaking, she would begin to cry again. I finally changed my mind back again, begging her not to tell me anything- I couldn't bear to see her pain stop and start like this. But she clenched her teeth, and took a deep breath, and began to talk, at human speed.

It took two hours.

For two awful, miserable, hellish hours, I listened, immobile and unbreathing, as Esme told me everything that Charles Evenson had ever done to her.

Her human memory was imperfect, of course. These were only the memories that she could recall. And it _still_ took two hours. Instead of going chronologically- her memory was too cloudy for that- she started at the top of her head, and went down to her feet, telling me each and every injury that he had inflicted. Every bruise, every cut, even the burns and the two broken bones- no, she remembered a third by the time she was done. She told me about all the times that she had to stay home, for days at a time, waiting for the injuries on her face and arms to heal. This got less, as the years went on, and Charles got better at knowing which parts of her body would be covered by her clothing. She had gone to her parents in the beginning, and told them- not everything, but enough that they should have done something.

They told her to go home to her husband. They told her that she keep quiet, and maybe try a little harder.

And then there were the times that he had taken her body without her consent- she didn't even try to guess at a number, because it was every time. But despite my effort against it, my mind easily calculated a guess, considering how many years they had been together, minus his year and a half in the Great War, and considering what she had whispered about his appetite. I wished that I could bleach my mind of the number I came up with. It was somewhere in the neighborhood of seven hundred. He had raped her seven _hundred_ times.

And that was only the first of the two hours. The rest of the time, she told me everything that he had _said_ to her. Her human memory was painful clear on this count, as well as on the physical abuse. I had known, of course, that the most vivid memories were the most likely to be kept. How I desperately wished that it wasn't true, right now. I just sat, dumbfounded, as she repeated the vile lies that he had fed her. How stupid she was, how ugly. How incompetent, how useless, how disappointing. How he had been glad, in his years away, to get away from her, and to have the chance to be with some _real_ women, who knew what they were doing. How he hoped they would never have a child, because she would probably be a lousy mother, anyway.

I couldn't stand to hear any more after that. She seemed to be done, anyway- as soon as the word "mother" had crossed her lips, she had fallen silent, staring at her hands. I gently kissed her on the forehead and we eased out of the chair together, into standing. I ran my fingers through her hair, promising her that everything that Charles had ever told her about herself was a lie, and that I would spend the rest of eternity making sure that she believed me.

She nodded, and I held her in silence for a while longer. When she finally drew a deep, cleansing breath, I drew back enough to look in her eyes.

"Esme, love, I'm going to ask you something. You might not know the answer, but be honest with me, if you do?"

"Anything," she said weakly.

I kissed her forehead again, speaking as calmly as I could. "Where is Charles now?"

She frowned. "I don't know. Why?"

"I mean, the last you knew, was he still living in Columbus? I'm just curious."

"I guess so. I mean, I didn't really try to… what?"

Now that I had a destination, I couldn't stand to wait any longer. I would try to find Edward in the woods, and send him back to the house to stay with her. But there was no doubt about it. If I could find him, Charles Evenson was going to die, and he was going to die tonight. I didn't even feel angry anymore. I was way, way past that.

I kissed her on her forehead a third time, giving her a serene smile. "I'm going out for a bit, love. I'll send Edward back in to stay with you." I was already on the stairs. I knew it was terribly wrong to leave her like this, but I was afraid. I was afraid that if I waited another minute, I was going to lose control, right here in the house. And then she would _truly_ be afraid of me.

Esme's steps echoed right behind mine. "You're leaving, right _now_?" she asked incredulously. "But we just-"

"I'm sorry," I choked out as I threw open the door- I couldn't look back at her, or she would know. But I was already losing control, apparently. The knob broke off in my hand, and the door shattered into splinters as it hit the wall.

Esme followed me out. "You're going to kill him," she observed in a trembling voice. "You can't. Carlisle, you _can't_! Edward! _Edward_!" She screamed for our son as she latched onto my arm, pulling me back. She was strong, but she wasn't brand new anymore. I peeled her hands away, as gently as I could.

"I'll be back soon," I promised her through my teeth. My vision was tainted with red as the rage burned through me. Esme was crying again, shaking her head and grabbing for my arm. I started backing away from her, toward the woods. I knew that I was being awful, that of all the times she might need me, this was the one- but I couldn't stay. I _had_ to go kill him, more than I had ever had to do _anything_ before. I had to hear him apart with my own hands. I turned to run, but there was a white streak in the forest ahead of me and Edward appeared in my face, blocking my path and looking between the two of us in a panic.

"Stop him," Esme said in a dull voice, trying to drag me back toward the house. "Help me stop him, Edward! He can't do this." Edward laid his hand on my arm, but he looked undecided as he stared at Esme, listening intently to her thoughts.

"You knew," I snarled accusingly, shrugging his hand off. I was losing my calm by the second now, and Edward's eyes grew wide as a small portion of my uncharacteristic rage redirected towards him. "You had to have known! You knew and you didn't _tell_ _me_!" I tried to dart around him, but he saw my thought and blocked me again, using his full strength this time to push against me.

I knew that it was wrong to do, but I did it anyway. I opened my mind to Edward, and let him see just a fraction of the things that Esme had told me. He frowned, but he didn't look surprised. Yes, he had known. He had known, this whole time! He let go of me and raised his hands defensively, stammering his apology as my teeth ground together in fury.

"I asked him not to," Esme said quickly, as I struggled to get past him again. "It's not his fault! Don't hurt him, please!"

_That_ stopped me. My anger sank down a notch as I forced myself to turn to her. She flinched again, seeing my face. "_Hurt_ him?" I whispered. "Like Charles, you mean? No, Esme. I don't hurt those I love. I am not like that… that… Edward, stand aside. I need you to stay with her…"

My voice trailed off as I started to run. I couldn't stay here another second. If I did, I really _was_ going to hurt Edward, if he didn't get out of my way. But he wasn't running to follow me- did I have his blessing, then? Or was he refusing to leave Esme alone?

"I don't _want_ you to do it! _Carlisle_!" Esme screamed from behind me. I stumbled over my feet in shock, and flew back to her, confused. She threw her arms around me, locking her fingers behind my back.

"Thank you," she sighed.

"Esme, please, understand," I moaned into her hair. "I _need_ to kill him. He _has_ to die. Why on earth are you protecting him?"

Edward awkwardly cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head as he backed away. "Think I'll… go hunting again," he mumbled. Then he met my eyes. "But I won't be far," he promised, the warning obvious in his tone.

Ah. He _had_ sided with her, then.

"I meant what I said before," Esme sighed, pulling me back around to face her. "I want to forget him. And I really haven't thought of him, very often, in this new life. Honestly. If you do this, it's just going to make it worse. For _me_."

I sighed in defeat, unable to break away from her. As badly as I needed to kill Charles, I needed Esme's happiness more. If there was even a possibility that I could make it worse, then I really _couldn't_ do it.

"But it's more than that," she continued, reaching up to touch my cheek. "You were right when you said you aren't like Charles. You're the _opposite_ of him, Carlisle. In every way. And that's why I can't let you do this."

"Esme," I sighed. "I'm a vampire, and you're my wife… my mate. I have every right to avenge the despicable things he did to you." _If you will just let me._

"You may be right," she said. "But you still shouldn't do it. You're more human than you know, Carlisle Cullen. You're the most gentle, peaceable, kind man I've ever known, human or otherwise. If you do this, it's going to follow you for the rest of eternity. It's going to haunt you forever."

"I don't care," I said stubbornly. But she was right. Even now, as she calmed me down, I was quickly losing the desire to kill. Not that Charles didn't deserve to die- he did. But as my rage began to fade in the warmth of my wife's love, I was losing the desire to be the one that dealt him that death

"Please, Carlisle, promise me you won't."

I took a deep breath, releasing my right to vengeance and sighing as I felt my anger dissolve into grief. "I promise."

She relaxed fully, easing her grip and laying her face on my shoulder. "He's already dead, anyway," she said in a faraway voice. "That was another life, and it's behind me now. _You_ are my future."

"And you are mine," I vowed. "But if you will allow me one thing?"

She waited, unwilling to promise until I spoke.

"I want to move farther away. Because he _isn't_ dead, Esme. And just the thought of being anywhere _near_ him, even this close…"

She smiled. "I'd like that. Yes."

I reached behind my back and gently untangled her arms. "Esme, will you give me a moment? I need to apologize to Edward. Don't go anywhere, all right?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Never."

.

.

.

I found Edward a mile into the woods, waiting for me. He was lounging up in a tree, his legs dangling as he tossed a pine cone to himself over and over. When I was close enough, he tossed it down to me, and I caught it, examining every detail of the pine cone as I worked up the courage to apologize.

"I wanted to tell you," he said, before I could say it. "I knew on the very first day, after she woke up. I mean, I never saw much… she really doesn't think about him, hardly ever. But she didn't want me to say anything, and I figured it should be her choice."

"And you were right," I replied, tossing the pine cone back up to him. He caught it and rolled off the branch, landing on his feet in front of me. "I'm sorry I was so upset earlier. You did the right thing."

"So… you're not going, then?" he asked.

"No. And I never will, unless she changes her mind. I gave her my word."

Edward considered this for a few moments. "Okay… but… he's still alive."

I turned away, fighting against the rage that was rising in my throat again. In a blink, I lashed out at a boulder than was standing nearby, sending the fragments flying in five different directions. Edward raised his eyebrows, but didn't speak.

"Yes," I ground out in defeat. "He's still alive."

"So, what do we do?"

"Do? We're leaving. We're moving to Montana, next week. I want to get her farther away from him."

Edward nodded slowly. He seemed to be chewing on something in his mind, but I didn't have the energy to get into it, whatever it was.

"How is she? I mean, how is she _really_?" When he didn't answer right away, I began to panic again, and I grabbed his arm. "Edward, tell me! I have to know!"

He shrugged away, giving me a sidelong glance as he headed deeper into the woods. "Then _ask_ her," he said simply.

.

.

.

Five minutes later, Esme and I were back in the leather chair in my office, and I was begging for her forgiveness. Now that my rage had cooled, I was appalled at how I had been ready to leave her, moments after she had poured out her heart and her deepest secrets to me.

She finally laughed at me, telling me to stop. I just closed my eyes and laid my forehead on hers, letting the beautiful sound wash over me. "How, Esme? How can you love me after all that?"

"I said stop," she growled playfully. "I wasn't even mad at you."

"No," I said, opening my eyes. "I mean, how you can you love… at all? After _him_? How can you even stand to have me touch you?" I reached up, laying my fingers on the left side her face. How could she even stand _this_, when I knew now how often he had struck her, right where I was touching? But she leaned into my touch, turning into my hand and burying a kiss on my palm.

"Because that was another life," she said, repeating the kiss several times. "Besides, I never loved him. And I loved you before I even met him, remember?"

"I remember."

She took my hand away, staring down at it for a while. "I suppose this- being married again- might be more difficult if I was still human. If _he_ was human. But this was what I wanted all along, Carlisle- you. I hardly ever think about Charles when we're together, because being with you doesn't remind me of him, at all. You're not even the same species as him- and I'm referring to _his_ inhumanity, not yours."

I lifted my hand back up and began combing through her hair, memorizing every feature anew. I could easily continue in my anger and grief, seeing all the invisible scars on her body, and on her soul. I suppose another man might even view her as damaged goods. But my love for her was simply too strong for that. She was my whole world, and knowing that another man had had a destructive foray into that world was sobering, but not limiting. I could only see _Esme_, when I looked at her. If she could be with me, and forget the monster who had ruined her human life, how could I offer her any less?

I drew closer, so that our lips were almost touching. She closed the distance, and time faded away.

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**Sadly, recovery is not like that in real life. But it is for Carlisle and Esme :) So, I'm a bit nervous- this was new territory for me as a writer. Please let me know what you think, and don't forget to submit more requests!**


	3. 1920-42ish: Awakening

**I'm so excited about the 1950 story! Let's peek in and see what Alice has been up to all this time. A couple people requested that we see Alice's early visions, and so I started with that and just kept going. Thank you to abishop47 and EmeraldStar73, and anyone else who has given me some help with this one.**

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**APOV (visions in italics)**

My eyes jerked open, and I scrambled up onto all fours, looking around me in a panic. I was alone in a forest at night, but the darkness seemed all wrong- everything was so clear and light. But why shouldn't it be? I thought about climbing a nearby tree to get a better look. Before I had completed the thought, I was already climbing hand over hand, effortlessly reaching the top.

Nothing- just more forest. And then pain, in my throat. My hand flew up to meet the aching-thirst? I wanted a drink, I _needed_ a drink. Of what? I found my nostrils flaring and my breath pulling deeply at the night air. Off to the right, something smelled sweet…

The next thing I knew, I was on my hands and knees, my mouth dripping blood onto the dead man that lay beneath me. I scrambled away from him, wiping my mouth in horror. I found a rain puddle and flung the water up onto my face to clean myself. When the water stilled, I stared at my reflection, seeing myself for the first time ever.

The first thing I noticed were my eyes, glowing red. They seemed wrong somehow, but I couldn't guess why. What color were they supposed to be? My hair was black, cut short and sticking out all kinds of ways. I reached up to smooth it, noticing with a gasp the shimmering moonlight that reflected off of my raised arm. I looked at my reflection again, memorizing my features. I was wearing a shapeless tunic with blue dots, and it smelled good and bad at the same time. I picked at it in disgust, but looking around the clearing, I found no belongings. Just the dead man, the puddle, and me. I crawled back to his side and closed his eyes, feeling guilty.

What was I? _Who_ was I? I tried to cry, but apparently I had even forgotten how to do that. I just sat there, shaking as I sat next to the dead man, and-

_A pale, handsome young man with honey-gold hair, glowing red eyes and a sad smile._

The image disappeared as quickly as it had come. Where had it come from? I still didn't know who, or _what_ I was, or who _he_ was, but I knew that he was mine. I knew that everything would be all right, if I could just find him. I closed my eyes, trying to find the picture again.

Instead, I found something else.

_A group of people, and I was standing in the middle, in a blue dress, a beautiful smile on my face as I leaned into the man with the honey-gold hair. __He was much taller than me, and he was bending down, planting a kiss on my hair. __There was another pair, pale like us. __The woman was stunningly beautiful, with long golden hair, and the man was huge, with curly black hair and a mischievous smile. __There was another young man standing alone, with untidy bronze hair and a gentle smile on his face as he looked at us. __Standing apart from all of us were another couple, slightly older but still beautiful, to the point of perfection.__The woman was watching us with a sweet, motherly smile. __The man had short blond hair, and his golden eyes held an ancient, patient wisdom. __He had his arm around the woman's shoulders. __It seemed that the two of them were watching over the rest of us, like proud parents. __Everyone was pale, beautiful, and shimmering._

We all looked so happy, like a family. Did I know these people? Were they killers like me? They shimmered like me, but they had golden eyes.

I looked around the rest of the picture, discovering that we _all_ had golden eyes, even myself and the man with the honey-gold hair. But my eyes were red right now, weren't they? And hadn't his eyes been red in the first picture? I scrunched my eyes shut, trying to find him again.

There he was- the same picture as before, and his eyes were definitely red. It was much clearer than the picture where we were with the other people, so it was my favorite. I sighed, memorizing every detail of his face. His hair came down, almost touching the collar of his worn blue shirt. His eyes weren't quite as bright-red as mine, but they were beautiful. His skin was like my own, but there was some kind of curved scar on the left side of his neck, just peeking out of his collar. I wondered what the sad smile was about. I wanted to reach out and poke it, or kiss it, and make it a happy one. I wanted to know what he smelled like. I wanted to bury my face in his chest, like I had been doing in the fuzzy group picture. I wanted him to tell me that everything was all right, and that I wasn't going crazy.

When I opened my eyes again, it was daylight and the dead man smelled bad. I got up and began to walk away.

_Myself, digging a hole and tossing the corpse inside._

I froze in mid-step, turning around to look suspiciously at the corpse, which was still lying innocently on the ground.

What was the _matter_ with me? I started walking away again, but I was halted by the same vision- not a frozen picture like the others, but I could see myself in motion, digging in the dirt and covering the man up. Growling aloud in frustration, I obeyed the vision, burying him deep underground. As soon as I had completed the task, I began to walk away a third time, wondering if I would be stopped again.

Nothing. It appeared that I had… fulfilled it?

They _were_ visions, then! Visions of the future. This was bizarre, but it gave me hope. What if the vision of the man meant that I was supposed to go find him? And did the other, fuzzier picture mean that we would be happy, part of what looked like a family? I had memorized every detail of both pictures by now, right down to the "Welcome to Texas" sign that was hovering above his head in the red-eyed picture, far off in the background. I decided to go to Texas, and-

I lost him! The second I made the decision, the picture slipped away into nothingness, and I panicked. Wasn't I supposed to do what the vision said? I reversed my decision, in a desperate attempt to get him back.

There he was. I almost wept with relief, but I knew in that moment that I couldn't go to him- he had to come to me. How long would I have to wait? I sat back down on the damp earth, watching the horizon eagerly. I sat, and waited.

And waited.

The sun rose and fell. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore- my throat just hurt too much. I got up and started to run blindly, following my nose until I found myself crouched over another dead man. This time there was a woman as well, both their throats torn to match. All I knew was, _my_ throat felt better. I took the clothes off the woman and put them on myself, giving her my discarded gown before I buried both of them.

I had killed three people now.

What _was_ I?

My only consolation was that my mind- at least that shimmery, illusive part of my mind- still held the picture of the man with the honey-blond hair, and the picture of us with a family. Other visions came and went, but those two were the most important. As long as I could keep those two pictures alive, everything was tolerable. Not all right, just tolerable. My throat hurt a lot, and I hated killing people to make it feel better. It felt wrong, but I had to do it. What else was there to do?

One time, I was so thirsty and angry that I started running toward a city, its lights and noise calling to me with the promise of relief. I was going to kill everyone I could find, and my throat would _finally_ stop hurting. But then _he_ slipped away- everything slipped away, except a black cloak fluttering the breeze, and then everything faded to black.

I turned around, running in the opposite direction, heaving a relieved sigh when everything reappeared. Apparently I wasn't supposed to be in cities. I knew that I would, someday: I had seen it. But I wasn't ready, for some reason.

The pictures kept me sane throughout the next few weeks. Other visions plagued me day and night. Sometimes I saw myself doing things two seconds before I did them, but sometimes they were of things that made no sense at all. If it wasn't for the pictures of the man and the family, I would have completely lost my mind.

The worst was when I saw myself kill people ahead of time. There was no point in trying to avoid the fulfillment of these visions- I had to feed, and often. I had a vision of myself wandering up into the mountains, and I obeyed this one eagerly, hoping that the killing could stop. But the visions only led me to a campground, and I killed again.

It had been three weeks now, and I finally noticed that I wasn't sleeping. Had I ever slept before? I must have, if it struck me as odd, that I wasn't doing it. I was definitely bored, though. I entertained myself by rooting through the camper that had belonged to my latest meal. He had been a packrat, fortunately. I pored over maps, tore through novels, and slowly, piece by piece, assembled the world around me into some kind of order.

I read about vampires, and decided that this was what I was, though not everything matched up. I was shocked to discover, in one of the books that I found, that the sunlight was supposed to burn me. I was supposed to have fangs, and I was supposed to sleep during the day, in a coffin. I was apparently a poor excuse for a vampire.

I knew that the man in my visions- for I had seven different pictures of him, now- was a vampire as well, because his eyes and his pallor matched my own. This didn't quite match up with the eye color in the group picture, but I would figure that out later. Where _was_ he, and what was taking him so long? I also knew now that the visions with sound and motion were the ones that were about to come true. Over time, I learned to call them up at will, those five-second-ahead ones. I waited patiently for the honey-blond man to be in a moving vision, but it wasn't happening. They were always still pictures.

I followed my visions around the country- it was called the United States, I learned later- and waited for him to find me.

And waited.

One day, I was lounging up in a tree with my eyes closed, playing with my visions to see if I was going to do anything interesting that day, when I got what I had been waiting for- a vision of _him_, complete with motion and sound. I jerked into sitting, enjoying the scene as it unfolded. I was disappointed to see that I wasn't in it, but I drank it up nonetheless.

_He was standing alone on the edge of a cliff, staring out at nothing. __Another male vampire was standing a few feet away from him, frowning in disapproval._

_"Come on, Jasper. It's time to clean up."_

I gasped aloud. Jasper! I spoke the word aloud, savoring it on my lips and smiling at the sound. It was the first time I had ever spoken aloud, and I liked that his name was the first thing I had ever said. My voice was beautiful, a silver tinkling of bells, and his name on my voice was like a song. Jasper. I closed my eyes again, waiting to see what would happen next.

_Jasper turned to the other vampire, and nodded stiffly. The two walked away from the edge of the cliff, down towards a small gathering of vampires. As Jasper and his companion neared the group, everyone fell silent, waiting for something. Jasper raised his hand, pointing to one of the males. The male followed Jasper and the other one away from the others, asking what his assignment was. The other vampire moved, so that the male was between himself and Jasper. Jasper nodded slightly, and in a blur, his companion grabbed the male's shoulders while Jasper ripped his head off._

I gasped aloud, losing the vision completely. What was he _doing? _I had to know. I stared into space, willing the vision to continue.

_Jasper and his companion were standing side by side, staring into a fire. Purple smoke was filling the air around them, and Jasper turned away, leaving his companion behind. He returned to the edge of the cliff, staring at nothing again. He looked over his shoulder, and then started staring out again. After a moment, he sank down to sit on the ground, burying his fingers in his hair and trembling. After a while, he lowered his hands and stared at them, a look of hatred on his face. He rose into standing, his hands clenched into fists, and walked away from the cliff._

I lost him again after that.

What kind of a man _was_ my Jasper? I felt even more drawn to him than before, and it wasn't just because I knew his name. It was because I wanted to save him. I wanted to gather him up in my arms, and tell him that everything would be all right, that he would be happy someday. He hadn't wanted to kill the vampire- I could tell. From the numb, weary look in his eyes as he killed, it seemed that he did this sort of thing a lot. And from the moment of anguish that he had allowed himself on the cliff, I knew that he wished he _wasn't_ doing it.

It was a long time before I saw him again, but I waited anyway. I wandered, and learned, and killed.

And waited.

I was growing up. It had been a year now since I had awoken, and I could walk right into a city now without losing my future. I tried to pick people that deserved death, or were close to dying anyway- my visions helped with that- and when I wasn't hunting I was rooting through libraries, learning. Sometimes I broke into stores and replaced my battered clothing. It felt good to wear new things- it made me feel like one of the humans. According to the vampire stories I had read, I used to be one.

I hated killing, hated it more every time I did it. The more time I spent around humans, the more I was bombarded with their futures. If the person seemed happy, it was fun to poke around their future, see what they were going to do that day.

Sometimes I would see things that weren't so happy. Sometimes I looked at a person, and saw myself killing them. I would follow them and kill them, usually, because it seemed like I was supposed to. And at least I got new clothes, whenever I killed a woman that was the right size. But I still felt guilty, nonetheless.

One night I was burying a kill under a rockslide when a new vision surprised me. A still image. It was the slightly older man from the group picture, the one I had had in the very beginning. The one with the short blonde hair and the gentle golden eyes.

_It was night, and he was kneeling on the ground, his face pressed against the throat of a huge deer. __The deer was sprawled under him at an unnatural angle. __Dead?_

Was he _feeding_ from the deer? What an odd thing to do! I decided to try it. I got up, running through the forest until I found a deer of my own. I walked up to it, wrinkling my nose. I grabbed its neck and wrenched. I brought its furry, tickly throat up to my mouth and bit, taking an experimental sip.

Ew!

I drank anyway, just to see if I could do it. It was _awful_, but I did it. Like the vision of the man... the father? When I was done, I felt… satisfied. Not in the way that I usually did, and my throat still had an echo of ache in it. But at least I hadn't poisoned myself. I buried the deer, just because I was in the habit anyway.

It rained the next morning, and I decided to use a rain puddle as a mirror, like I usually did when I combed through my hair with my fingers. I had hoped, in the beginning, that it would grow longer, but it never had. Still, there was no need to be disheveled. But this time, as I leaned over the puddle and began raking my fingers through the knots, I noticed a very slight change in the color of my eyes. They were still red, but just a bit lighter. They had been slowly losing their brilliance over my year-old life, but this was different. It was as if the red had been brushed with gold.

I scrunched my eyes shut, combing the world with the tendrils of my vision, searching for the man with the short blond hair. He was elusive, much harder to find than Jasper. But I worked at it furiously, my extra vision roaming over the miles until I found him. And my extra effort was rewarded: I jumped for joy as I saw him _moving_, breathing, speaking. This was happening today, somewhere in the world!

_"__Carlisle! __Who in the blazes-"_

I looked around the vision, finding the speaker.

_It was the young man who had been alone in the group picture, but his golden eyes were quickly fading to black as he shouted his question. __On the right side of the scene, he- Carlisle?- was there, running into the house with a woman in his arms. __She looked familiar- a lot like the woman in the group picture, the mother. __But she was human, and almost dead. __She was covered in dried blood, and his eyes, still golden, but faded half to black, were wide and frantic._

_"__It's Esme! __I can't… I'm sorry, Edward, we don't have time to talk about it!" __Carlisle's trembling hands fumbled with the buttons at the top of the woman's collar, and he leaned down, sinking his teeth right into her throat. __The younger man- Edward, now- stood frozen in shock, watching as Carlisle pulled away and gently bit the woman's wrists. __Carlisle collapsed to the floor, his golden eyes shot with just a hint of red, and Edward yelled at him again, just as the woman started to scream._

_"__What have you DONE?!"_

_Instead of answering, Carlisle crawled back to the woman's side, holding her hand and-_

I lost the vision after that. I sat staring at my reflection in the puddle as I processed what I had just learned. The group _were_ vampires, then- the eye color didn't mean they were a different species. I had also learned three of their names. But why hadn't the smell of the woman's blood made Carlisle's eyes turn completely black, like it had Edward's? And why did Carlisle bite the woman, if he wasn't going to feed on her? I knew she wouldn't die, because I still had her in the group picture. It was the same woman –Esme, he had called her. The one that belonged to him. Was he changing her into a vampire? It was nothing like the stories, but, then, neither were my teeth. And then there was the change in Carlisle's eye color, after biting her…

I leaned over the puddle again, staring at the subtle change in my own eyes, the exact opposite of what had just happened to Carlisle in the vision. I had taken in some animal blood, and he had taken in some human blood.

What if their golden eyes meant that they drank from animals all the time? Was that even possible? If I did that, would my eyes turn golden, too? I knew they would, someday, because I had seen it. I decided to try drinking animals all the time, and peeked into my own future, stretching out into the next few months. I saw several separate shots of myself with varying eye colors. In a couple of the pictures, it looked like I was feeding from animals.

It was worth a try. And wouldn't it be nice to stop killing people?

I waited three days, and tried again. This time I found a bear, and it tasted a little better. As soon as I was done, I ran to the nearest puddle and looked eagerly.

Even lighter! Still red, but a bit more gold in it this time. I doubted if a human would see the difference, but I could. I could do this!

Over the next several months, I practiced my new diet. Sometimes I messed up- some people just smelled too darn good. I didn't feel as guilty anymore, though. I was killing accidentally, and more often than I liked, but at least it wasn't on purpose.

But for the most part, I was able to stick to animals. Sometimes, if I focused hard, I could grab onto a vision that allowed me to peek in on Carlisle, Edward and Esme. I watched as Esme's eyes began to change, along with my own.

Now that I was drinking animals most of the time, I was able to be around humans more, and my throat didn't bother me so much, to smell them. I still had to be careful about them bleeding- I tried to avoid places with sharp objects- but it felt good to pretend to be a human sometimes, and it felt even better to be wearing something that I hadn't gotten off a corpse. I was able to occasionally buy new clothes, instead of just stealing them at night. Of course, the less people I killed, the less money I had, so I eventually had to go back to stealing. I didn't bother too often though; there was no one to care what I wore. But I sometimes sat in a busy department store, watching the human ladies and girls enjoy themselves as they shopped. I was able to do this now- expose myself in artificial light. My eyes were various colors, depending on that last time I messed up, but in general they were brownish yellow or dark-enough orange that no one noticed.

One night, something wonderful happened. I was sitting there, in the department store, envying the cheerful ladies as they bustled around the store, when a woman spoke loudly.

"Alice!"

My head jerked in her direction, like I had been called. I hadn't, of course; the woman's daughter came to her, and the woman scolded her for running off. But when she had called the girl's name, I had felt certain that she was calling _me_.

Was my name Alice?

It was as good a name as any! I supposed there was a whole human life that went with it, but the past wasn't my thing, it seemed. Oh, well.

_Alice and Jasper_, I said to myself. _Jasper and Alice._ Yes, it sounded perfect. Alice it was, then. I couldn't wait to tell him! Would he like my new name?

How long would I have to wait, to tell him?

I was getting better at telling how far off the visions were, from my current point in time. It wasn't an exact science, but I was working on it. Grainy pictures were the furthest off- I still had no idea how long it would be until all of us were together. Blurry pictures were the most uncertain. The moving, audible ones were very close, usually two days or less. So even though I was separated from those I loved- for I loved them all, now- I at least had the comfort of knowing that I was watching them in real time. There was still no sign of the other couple, in the motion pictures. I didn't even know their names. But I peeked often enough to know that Carlisle and Esme were in love, and I got to watch their entire wedding, on some island. Why didn't Edward have anyone? I tried to peek ahead, but his future was a mess. I got a flash of red eyes, and I stopped looking.

On July 19, 1922, I had the best vision yet. It was a still shot, and it almost as grainy as the group picture, which meant it wasn't happening soon.

_I was sitting alone, in a diner, my golden eyes sparkling with excitement. __My toes were balanced on the floor, like I was tapping them impatiently. __I was sitting beside a window, and the sky was gray. __A thousand raindrops were suspended in the air outside. __But I wasn't looking out the window- I was looking at the door._

I looked over to the leftmost end of the vision, to see what I was so excited about.

_The door to the diner was just opening, and a pale, masculine hand was gripping the handle. __A little higher, peeking out behind the edge of the door was a lock of honey-gold hair. __The other pale hand was raised, brushing raindrops off a man's overcoat, and-_

My eyes popped open and I lost the vision, shrieking with excitement. I knew, I just _knew_, that it was him! I was seeing the day that we were going to meet! When was it!?

I knew, from the quality of the picture, that it was not anytime soon. Nor was the group picture, where Jasper's eyes were smiling and golden. But I knew that both would come.

The years came and went. I still got flashes of Jasper, and they scared me. Sometimes I watched him in battle, holding my breath as his future flickered in and out during those moments. A few times, I thought I had lost him for good. But he would always slip away from his enemy, and kill ruthlessly.

He had no choice. I watched the scars accumulate, resolving to kiss each and every one as soon as I got the chance. I was going to save him. When?

I also watched the Cullen family - I had finally gotten the surname. I watched as Edward went away, drinking his eyes red. I watched when he came back in shame, Carlisle and Esme holding him as he grieved the loss of his innocence. I watched Rosalie join the family, and Emmett. I saw their wedding, and I saw other vampires with golden eyes dancing with my family. I saw them move a lot after that. There was some kind of glitch in late 1936, but everything turned out all right by the end. I watched in amusement as they traveled through the snow, through a tropical rain forest.

Through the world.

When was _I_ going to travel with them? I was getting really good with the animal diet now. Wasn't I ready _yet?_ It wasn't as if any of us were getting any older, but I hated to miss everything like this. When was Jasper going to find me, and when we were going to find _them?_

I waited some more.

Jasper's future suddenly got brighter in the early forties. I had missed most of what happened, but one night a vision came to be unbidden- the important ones usually did this. I paid close attention, because I felt this was big.

_Jasper and his companion- the one who had always helped with the executions- were standing on the edge of another cliff. The shapes on the horizon were different this time. His companion looked peaceful, but Jasper still looked troubled. Not haunted, so much as before, but troubled._

_"__What's it going to take, Jasper?"_

_Jasper spoke, that funny twang coloring his musical voice. "I'm sorry. I know it makes it harder for you and Charlotte. It's just…"_

_"__What? __You don't want to go BACK to her, do you?"_

_"__Of course not. __This is a hundred times better. __But I still feel it, every time I kill. __No matter how fast I attack, there's always that split second where their fear hits me. __I can't stand it."_

_The other vampire sighed, and Jasper looked guilty.__ "__Sorry…"_

_"__Stop saying that! __You can't help it. "__There was a pause, and Jasper's companion relaxed visibly.__ "__Thanks."_

_Jasper looked back at the horizon, the muscles in his jaw clenching in determination.__ "__I think I'm going to go off on my own for a while."_

_The other one inhaled deeply, shaking his head in protest._

_Jasper smiled sadly.__ "__Don't bother, Peter. __You know you'll both be happier without me."_

_"__It doesn't mean I want you to go."_

_"__I know. __But there's something else for me, somewhere. __I've got to go find it. __Tell Charlotte goodbye for me?"_

_Peter frowned again.__ "__You're leaving right NOW?"_

_Jasper shrugged. "Why not?"_

_Peter reached out, clasping Jasper's hand.__ "__We'll see you again, sometime? __We'll stay in the U.S., of course."_

_"__I hope so. __Take care of yourselves- stay to the North."_

_Peter dipped his head, staring into Jasper's eyes.__ "__Thank you. __For everything."_

_Jasper nodded and slipped away._

The vision ended, and I flopped back down on my back, staring up at the stars as I played it over and over in my head. I felt enormous relief as I unraveled the events that seemed to have taken place.

It was funny, in a way- at the same time as the humans around me were getting nervous about that little war in Europe, my Jasper had just escaped from war. He was free now, but he was still sad. And there was something about feeling other people's feelings. He was striking out on his own, leaving two or more friends behind to find… something.

Me?

It was easier after that, to get a hold of Jasper in the visions. They were mostly still pictures, but occasionally I was rewarded with a moving, breathing Jasper. I never heard his voice again, after that- he had no one to talk to. He spent his time wandering and hunting. He seemed to wait as long as he could- usually until his eyes turned black. And just like he had told Peter, he always killed as quickly as he could, but sometimes it wasn't quick enough. Sometimes, after feeding, he would curl up on the ground, trembling and trying to pull his hair out. It was even harder to watch, now that I knew there was a better way. I hardly ever had human blood in me now. I felt calmer, and happier, and _better_. I wanted him to have those things, too. He did seem more at peace, when he wasn't hunting, but I knew he would never really be happy until he found me.

I had to comfort him, and teach him about the animal diet- I knew it would make him feel better. Why didn't he hurry up and find me? I tried again and again to go to him, whenever I caught a road sign in the visions, but I lost him each time, and had to turn back.

I waited some more.

And in the meantime, I watched my family, and my beloved Jasper, from afar.


	4. 1927: Daydream

****Note to new readers: If you've recently read the 1927 story, you may have already seen this. After writing it as an outtake, I liked it so much that I went back and made it the new first half of the third chapter. Sorry for any confusion.****

**This takes place during Edward's "slippery slope" period in the 1927 story- let's say between chapters 2 and 3. If you remember, Margaret is not a singer for Edward but she does smell unusually good. This was the part in the story where the blood-scent addiction was just starting to make things difficult, but he still didn't realize how close he was to losing it. Enjoy the Bella foreshadowing! (or anti-shadowing, as the case may be) **

* * *

**EPOV**

I was slouching deeper and deeper in my chair, copying the boredom that my classmates were succumbing to in the second half of the Biology lecture. If I had been one of them, I probably would have been snoring. Really, hadn't we beaten mitosis to death by now?

Thankfully, I had the delectable Margaret Weiss right next to me, and I had long since left Biology behind, immersing myself in her scent and in the imaginary world in which it was permissible to lean over and sink my teeth into her-

"Mister Cullen!"

I looked up at the teacher, easily suppressing the growl that threatened to announce my displeasure at being interrupted. "Yes, Mrs. Wilson?" I asked sweetly.

The reprimand disappeared from her mind, to be replaced with an image of my face. There were dark circles under my eyes, and my eyes themselves were a little too close to black for such a public setting. I quickly moved my hand up to my stomach and rubbed it, confirming her unspoken fear that I wasn't feeling well.

Her mental voice quickly softened, as well as her spoken voice. "Oh, Edward, why didn't you say something? You look awful. Why don't you go down to see the Nurse?"

I nodded pathetically and rose from my seat, taking my books and the wooden hall pass being offered to me. I took one last deep breath of Margaret's scent, and headed for the door. But as I touched the doorknob, my instincts flared in protest, angry at being denied satisfaction yet again- and seventeen minutes early, to boot. I tried to advance my foot, but I knew that I was dangerously close to turning back toward my table and doing the unthinkable. _Just calm down, calm down…_

I stood still and closed my eyes, clenching and unclenching my fists as I reminded myself of all the reasons why I should leave the room. Carlisle's trust, Esme's love. The audience. My vow to maintain the diet and self-control exemplified by my creator. The humiliation of letting a seventeen-year-old human child ruin my perfect record, just because she smelled so good.

Once it was safe to walk again, I opened the door and stormed out, slamming it behind me at human speed. As soon as I was safely outside the classroom, I leaned back against the lockers, trying to decide what to do.

Nurse, nothing. I needed to get _out_ of here. I could feel my control slipping around Margaret, and I truly didn't understand it. I had just hunted this weekend, for crying out loud! But here I was again, having to leave school in the middle of the day to hunt. It was the right thing to do. Black really wasn't a normal eye color, and I loved my parents. I didn't want to ruin our life here. I should leave the building, head up into the Forest, and drink myself into tranquility.

But I didn't _want_ to leave. I wanted to go back in there, tell Mrs. Wilson that I felt much better, and get my seventeen minutes. Maybe if I waited a bit, my eyes would lighten up…

While I was debating my options, the classroom door opened beside me and _Margaret_ came out.

"Um… you didn't get very far." _Why did she have to pick me? __Couldn't one of the boys have walked him to the nurse? __This is awkward…_

She closed the door behind herself, fanning her scent towards me. I inhaled appreciatively and smiled, despite the tantalizing burn in my throat.

"Are you sick, as well?" I asked politely.

"No. Mrs. Wilson thought you looked a little faint as you were walking out, and wanted me to walk you to the nurse. Um, you're not going to throw up, are you?"

I looked past her down the hallway, and used her viewpoint to look behind me. There wasn't a teacher or student in sight. Margaret was alone, in the hallway. With _me_.

"I'm fine," I said quickly. "I don't need help."

"Oh. All right. Um, feel better." _Thank goodness. __I don't think he likes me very much- at least not lately. __And he's so creepy, anyway._ She turned to go back to class.

Silly girl! If only she knew how much I _liked_ her- though not in the way she wished I would. Margaret Weiss was just like every other girl in this school when it came to her fascination with me- she had given up by now, but despite my attempts to be unapproachable, and even my "creepiness" lately, I knew she would be wrapped around my little finger in a second, if I chose. It would be so ridiculously easy to get her alone…

But we were _already_ alone, I realized. Thought not for long- her hand was already reaching for the door, and then I wouldn't smell her again for three more days…

"Wait." The word came out of my mouth without my permission, and my hand grabbing her arm had _certainly_ not been an action approved by the saner half of my brain. What was I doing?

Margaret shivered and drew away from my touch. _Ugh! __He's so cold- he's sicker than I thought. __But wait, if he had a fever, shouldn't he be hot, instead?_

I jerked my hand away, her scent temporarily forgotten. It was time for some damage control; Margaret might have a boring mind, but she was no idiot.

"I mean, my stomach's fine. I just feel cold all over, and I've got a bad headache. I get them like this sometimes." _Now go back to class._

Margaret turned back toward me and I frowned as I saw her intention to check if I had a fever. Not good. But if I jerked away again, it might make her more suspicious. I forced myself to stand still while she laid her hand on my forehead, frowning in a motherly way at the coldness. _My goodness! __He's so cold- no wonder he's feeling faint. __Why can't men ever admit when they're sick?_

"I'm taking you to the nurse," she said firmly. "Come on."

"But-"

"Edward Cullen! I'm going with you, whether you like it or not. You're practically falling over as it is."

I had forgotten that I had been leaning my head against the wall when she came in. No, Margaret! Go back to class. This is a bad idea. No!

"If you like," I said smoothly. And why not? Smelling her for an extra minute was just too good to pass up, and it wasn't like I was going to _do_ anything. She started down the hallway, and I pulled myself away from the wall obediently.

We walked in silence, her scent surrounding us like a cloud. I stared straight ahead as we walked, and I distracted myself by counting how many steps were left until the Nurse's office. Just 850 more steps, and she would be safe. No problem.

Her mind wandered, as well. She was thinking about the last time she had gone to the Nurse, a couple of weeks ago. She had been hurrying to get her books out of her locker so that she wouldn't be late to class, and her hand slipped against the latch-

As I saw the blood in her memory, the world turned upside down, and my feet tangled together in confusion as my body leapt away from her at the same time as it leapt toward her. Venom flooded my mouth and as she reached over to steady me, I shook my head frantically, clenching my teeth shut.

"For goodness' sakes, Edward! Let me help you, or you're going to pass out!" She reached for me again, and I backed fully away from her, slamming myself into the lockers behind me. She put her hands on her hips, taking another step toward me. "What's the _matter_ with you?"

I just shook my head again, swallowing the venom as quickly as I could, holding my hand up in protest. As Margaret pictured me fainting, her heart began to beat faster in her worry, sending her scent toward me in urgent waves.

"I'm sorry," I finally choked out. "It's just… just…" _It's just that I really want to kill you right now. __Can't you understand that?!_

"Just what?" she snapped. "Are you that afraid to let people help you?"

"I don't want _you_ to help me," I said through my teeth. I could see my haunted expression through her eyes- why didn't she _run_? "Margaret, please understand," I begged, softening my voice a bit. "I know you're trying to help, but it's making it worse. Just go back to class, _please_."

Margaret's eyes finally widened in understanding, and she shivered. Finally, a reasonable response! If she would just get out of my sight, I could make my escape. But her thoughts weren't going the way I wanted them to. She had decided that my skittishness and refusal to show weakness were signs that I was, in fact, in love with her. Like she had hoped all along.

Oh, for the love of… I opened my mouth to order her away again, but she suddenly blushed in embarrassment, the blood rising to fill her cheeks in invitation, and her pulse picked up again as she took a tentative step towards me. _I knew it! __All those times I caught him looking at me…_

I blinked, trying to clear my vision of the haze of her scent, and trying to clear my mind of the echoing thud of her heartbeat. I knew this was her last chance, that I should call for help- if I could get a teacher out here, she might still survive this. I might not break my vow, and my family's trust in me. But my throat was in cinders, the flames devouring the sound of my voice as I tried to save her life. I felt the lockers pull gently away from my back, and I was carried forward until my hands were on the sides of her face. I could feel the difference in temperature under the fingers that were touching her blush. The blood was so close…

"Edward," she whispered. _Kiss me._

I didn't have to be told twice. My lips met hers, and she shivered at the unexpected cold as I felt her hands climb up my back. I kissed her again, on her chin and then under her chin, sliding my hands down to her shoulders. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, hoping I would kiss her throat next.

Stupid, _stupid_ girl.

Her carotid artery was pounding out a rhythm that had been written just for me- I could tell. I bent down until my nose was just touching the skin over the artery, and one final thought raced through my mind as my sanity evaporated.

_I'm sorry._

I opened my jaws and bit, my mouth filling with the most amazing, most spectacular deliciousness in the whole world. She finally began to struggle, and I gripped her shoulders so hard that her bones began to snap. I kept drinking, and the whole world faded away behind me as I-

"Mister CULLEN!"

A ruler slammed on my table, and my eyes jerked open to see Mrs. Wilson leaning over me with her hands on her hips. _Honestly! __Sleeping right in the front row!_

I spun halfway around, to find Margaret sitting, alive and well, at my left side. She wasn't even looking at me- she was still flinching at the ruler which had just landed on the table we shared.

She was alive. I hadn't killed her!

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," I murmured. Mrs. Wilson huffed and slapped the ruler in her palm as she returned to the chalkboard.

When her back was turned, Margaret leaned toward me. "All you all right?" she whispered. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine! Just stay away from me!" I hissed, scooting my chair as far to the right as I could. Mrs. Wilson spun around again, watching as Margaret turned her face away toward the window, determined not to let me see her tears. After giving me a disapproving glare, she turned back to her lesson again.

_That's the last straw! __I'm going to the principal on my lunch break, and I don't care what he says. __Those two need a break from each other. __We can always move an extra desk in here for seventh period._

That was it, then. Margaret was really being taken out the class, and it was because of me. I wasn't angry this time, surprisingly. I was relieved, so relieved, because I really needed to stop doing this. There was nothing wrong with enjoying the scents around me, but this was too much. I couldn't let my daydreams get mixed up with reality like this, or I really _was_ going to make a mistake.

Still, the daydream had been quite innocent. Margaret was the one who came out of class looking for me. She was the one who had insisted on being alone in the hallway together. She was the one who had made the fatal error of assaulting me with her scent and the memory of bleeding. And she was the one who had stood there like a fool, practically begging me to kill her. I could just as easily have dreamt up a scenario in which I lured her away from the school, and killed her on purpose. But I hadn't. I had been blameless in this one. It was an accident.

And accidents were allowed.

But it was good that Margaret was being taken away from me- I knew that. There was no point in courting disaster, even if that disaster would finally give answer to the question I had secretly been brooding over:

What _did_ human blood taste like?

I had had one glimpse before- when Carlisle had bitten Esme. I had been standing right beside him, and I had already been digging around in his mind to find out why on earth he had brought a bleeding, dying woman to _our_ house, of all places. But when he leaned down to her throat, and I realized what he was about to do, I had jumped out of his mind instinctively, my telepathic gift tensing itself from the shock.

But for a fraction of a second, before I had fully steeled myself against it, I had experienced a faint echo of the taste that Carlisle's brain was processing. And throughout that next evening, as Esme lay screaming in pain, my father's mind had drifted back seven times to the memory of the taste- and then quickly discarded the thought, for his sake as well as my own. And even that first time had been so brief, and already so muted that I didn't get much. The moment itself had been so horrifying that I hadn't even thought about what I was denying myself. I had been intensely curious later on, but I knew that Carlisle would have disapproved of my asking him to kindly give me a mental replay of the taste of his beloved Esme's blood.

And so in my daydream, as in all the others, I had been obliged to make it up. And this case, since Margaret was the star of my imagination, I had done my very best- I had just imagined the taste of mountain lion blood, but mingled with that snatch I had gotten from Carlisle's mind six years ago. I didn't know how accurate my guess was. And I didn't want to know.

Really, I didn't.

Did I?


	5. 1948: Finally!

**Thank you all again for the lovely reviews! I have to admit, I was kind of hoping to fool everyone for a minute with the daydream :) I appreciate all the outtake requests, and I hope to get to them all eventually. For now, though, we're going to return to the current day with Alice and Jasper, in preparation for their "story" merging with the 1950 one. This will be the last Alice one, followed by a 1948 Jasper POV, and a 1950 Jasper POV. After that I'll return to doing random outtakes again.**

* * *

**Alice POV (visions in italics)**

I was lying on my stomach in the dirt, my face ten inches from an anthill. It had taken me most of the day to get this close; even the stupid ants could sense that I was dangerous. So I had slowly inched closer and closer, until I was here, staring lifelessly at the tiny soldiers as they labored.

What else was there to do, anyway?

It was getting difficult to find Jasper, lately. It seemed that he was as listless as I was, letting the wind blow him where it would. The last highway sign I had seen near him had read " Downtown Detroit, 5 mi." But that had been months ago.

I couldn't peek in on Carlisle- he was probably at the hospital, and he had a nasty habit of working in the Emergency Room. _That_ wasn't going to help my cravings for human blood. I hadn't made a mistake in eight years now, but I didn't need to give myself a sore throat for no reason.

Edward wasn't much better. He had just begun medical school, and was spending most of his days cutting up dead humans with his classmates, or staring at textbooks. Why he felt the need to do these things, I didn't understand. I was just lucky that my visions didn't come with smell. Ugh!

Esme was just plain boring, as usual- nothing but housecleaning, and repairing cabinets, and digging in the dirt.

And Rosalie and Emmett- they were more interesting, since they lived off on their own now and Emmett had a regular job. I liked watching Rosalie walk around town, shopping and seeing what there was to see. But the work day was over now, and they always spent their free time in a honeymoon free-for-all. I didn't want to see _that_. Judging by their cloudy futures, they had decided to return back to family… eventually. I wish they would hurry it up, though. Watching my siblings annoy each other was one of my favorite pastimes. Edward had been boring as an only child, and now he was boring again.

I had, sometimes, thought about going to find the Cullens on my own, while I waited for Jasper. But the family portrait always got fuzzier with those decisions, and sometimes Jasper and I were standing further apart in the picture. As lonely as I was, that wasn't worth it. Besides, I liked the idea of being alone with Jasper for a little while in the beginning.

So, I had nothing to do, except watch.

And wait.

I had really been spoiled, back in the early forties. My family had spent several years travelling the globe, and I had entertained myself by following them in my visions, seeing the world and meeting other vampires through them. But now their lives were dull again, and here _I_ was, staring at an anthill while I waited. I sighed for the seven hundredth time today, letting the ants hypnotize me as they marched.

The colony were working with a frenzied energy, carrying what morsels they could find back to their larders and storing them against the approaching winter. Their march was a web of black polka-dotted lines weaving up the hillside, converging on the door to their underground world. Earlier this morning, I had chosen a particularly intelligent-looking ant and named him Jasper, making up stories in which he was the general of the Ant Army.

Ant-Jasper was a compassionate fellow. He worked hard, never hesitating to help with one of his recruits needed help carrying a heavy leaf, or crumb, or whatever. He allowed the enlisted men frequent water breaks downstairs in the mess hall. He had a little ant-wife named Alice, and they shared an apartment down on the third level…

But then a crow had swooped down, gobbling up Ant-Jasper, and now I was just watching ants again. The wind swirled around me, blowing my bangs into my eyes. Not wanting to move and alert the ants to my position, I blew a puff of air upwards, trying to dislodge the two hundred and seven blacks hairs that were annoying me. I blew thirty times, without success. I peeked ahead in my own future to see if the wind was going to come help me anytime soon. But apparently I was going to lie here with my hair in my eyes for the next seven hours unless I altered my course.

This was _pathetic_. Here I was, one of the most terrifying creatures in the world, using my supernatural powers to decide whether or not to scare a bunch of insects in order to fix my hair. What would Emmett say?

I gave up, raising my hand to move my hair and sending the ants scurrying away as if a tornado had hit them. I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the sky and tapping my fingers on the ground. Counting the number of birds overhead. Finding pictures in the clouds.

Still waiting…

I had finally found the diner last year. The picture had cleaned up enough that I could see the Pennsylvania license plates parked outside the diner window, and I had also caught a glimpse of a store name across the street. I had spent months combing Pennsylvania, both with my visions and with my own eyes. I had finally found it, in a little corner of Philadelphia. I ran inside, sitting in "my booth" for a while. It was strange to feel so at home in a place I had never visited before, but I knew every inch of this diner; well, at least the parts that were visible in the visions.

I had then run back out and bought a calendar, giving it as a gift to the owner and suggested that it might look nice on the wall behind my booth. If my plan worked, then the vision would change and I would be able to figure out the exact month. Unfortunately, the he didn't like my calendar idea. I decided to hang it up myself, but that made the diner picture fuzzier. Maybe the owner didn't like pushy calendar-giving customers.

Oh well, I had to try. What good were visions if you couldn't cheat sometimes?

Anyway, I had stayed in Pennsylvania ever since. When the fateful day arrived in which the diner picture became a diner _movie_, I would know that I had a maximum of three days to get there. Of course, the vision wouldn't work if getting there wasn't possible, but sometimes these destiny-based visions could be a little tricky. And even though Jasper probably wasn't anywhere near Pennsylvania right now, I liked the idea of being near where he was _going_ to be. And that was why I was here in the Alleghenies, bored to death while I waited. The diner picture got clearer every day, and the closer I got, the more bored I got.

I was _so_ bored today, that I might as well check it to see if the diner's owner had suddenly developed a fondness for calendars. I closed my eyes, digging half-heartedly into the mental storehouse of my visions for the diner picture…

_Same as always. __I was sitting in the booth, my eyes sparkling with excitement. __The raindrops were outside the window, falling like a sheet of…_

I shrieked in surprise, jumping up onto my feet. The raindrops were _falling_, were not frozen in midair! Did this mean what I thought it meant?! I tangled my fists in my air, plunging back into the vision with everything I had.

_My feet were moving under the table, tapping the floor in an impatient staccato rhythm that matched the tapping of my fingers on a plate of coffeecake. __There was a creak and the tired jingle of a bell as the door opened._

_His right hand on the doorknob, and his left hand brushing the rain drops off of his overcoat. __The door swung open fully, and he walked in._

_HE WALKED IN!_

_I slipped out of the booth, containing my excitement as I danced toward him, and he froze, confusion and wariness clouding his handsome features._

_"__You've kept me waiting a long time," I said with a smile._

_He only hesitated for a second before bowing his head slightly.__ "__I'm sorry, ma'am," he drawled, beginning to return my smile as I drew another step closer. I held out my hand…_

My eyes popped open and I screamed at the top of my lungs, flipping myself into the air for a quadruple cartwheel. It was time, it was time, it was _time_! I landed in a crouch, poised like a sprinter as I officially made the decision: I was going to the diner, right now. I held my breath and checked the vision again.

Still there!

For the first time in my life, it was still there.

_I'm coming, Jasper! __It's time!_

I launched myself into the air again, and this time I hit the ground running.

.

.

.

I was in the diner the next morning as soon as it opened, stationed in my booth and tapping my feet as I watched the clouds. There was no clock anywhere in the diner- apparently this guy hated décor of every kind- so I had to predict the weather the old fashioned way. I could see storm clouds off in the distance, maybe two hours off. Was it The Storm? Or would I be sitting here for two days, tapping my feet and hiding coffeecake in the purse I had stolen last night?

I had broken into a boutique outside of Harrisburg, and stood staring at the dresses for most of the night. I had never actually _shopped_ before. In the beginning, when I was too wild to get near any real towns, I was limited to the dresses that came off the women I killed- and they were almost always too big. Later on, when I was under control enough to get into a store, I always had the cash, off my victims. But even then, I had to keep my red eyes down; get in, grab something from the petite section, get out. And when I had started hunting animals, I had run out of money fast. And I hated to steal, so I waited as long as possible to replace my clothing. I still liked to sit in department stores occasionally, watching the mothers and daughters go about their merry business, but it was a life that wasn't for me. Not yet, anyway.

So I really had no idea how to do this. I was determined to meet Jasper in a dress that _wasn't_ threadbare, and I knew I needed a big purse to stuff coffeecake into. So last night, I had taken my time walking through the nicely-hung clothes in the boutique, brushing my hands against the different fabrics and trying to guess what Jasper would like. In the end, I went with the most innocent, housewifely-looking one I could find. I figured that my Jasper was going to be on edge, meeting his psychic soul mate, and so I wanted to put him at ease as much as possible. And I thought I had read somewhere that pink had the power to calm people down. I spent another two hours touching the purses until I found a nice pink one to match the dress. Then, for the first time ever, I broke into the cash register and took thirty dollars, replacing it with a note that said "Sorry!"

So here I sat, in my new pink dress, with my first purse by my side, empty but for the thirty dollars. I ordered my first round of coffeecake and, while I waited for the clouds to get nasty, I checked the Meeting vision every ten minutes, tweaking my dialogue as I went. Apparently, if I started the conversation by jumping into his arms with "JasperIt'sMeAliceYourSoulMateI'veBeenWatchingYouForTwenty-EightYearsWithMyMagicVisions," things weren't going to go so well.

The clouds were coming along nicely, by ten o'clock, and my instincts were screaming that this was it. I had just ordered my third coffeecake, when I checked the Meeting again.

It was gone.

I grabbed the edge of the table in a panic, rewinding the vision back through time to see what I had done wrong. What had changed?! It had been perfectly fine ten minutes ago! I was new at this- the rewinding thing- and my panic grew as I darted around the future, stabbing at random. Had Jasper decided not to come down this street? Had he decided to hunt somewhere else?

After three and a half agonizing seconds, I finally found it.

_Jasper turned the corner onto this street, his collar pulled up against the rain. He saw the diner, glanced up at the clouds, and began to approach. But when he looked up at the diner again, he froze for a second, and then turned and ran._

It was so simple. He had seen a vampire sitting at one of the windows, and he had decided it wasn't worth the risk. I quickly got up out of the booth and moved to the counter, dragging my purse and my coffeecake with me. I couldn't see out the window anymore, but it had worked: the Meeting was back.

But my confidence wasn't. What had happened? What miniscule event had made Jasper skittish enough so that I had to change seats? And how could I predict-really- how he was going to react to me? Any number of things could go wrong, any second. Did I really have any idea what I was doing? What if I said something that scared him off? Made him attack me? I had never actually met another vampire before. What if-

I took a deep breath, releasing the part of my skirt that I had scrunched up in my panic. I smoothed it down, reminding myself that I needed to trust my visions- they had never steered me wrong before. And I had already been given my opening line in what I liked to call a destiny vision- those few visions that came before I made any decisions, like those I had had when I woke up. Jasper's face. The family portrait. The diner. These things were Meant To Be. Maybe the visions had done this on purpose- given me the booth view first, so that I could see the Pennsylvania license plates outside the window, and find the diner.

Trust the visions. Keep it light. _You've kept me waiting a long time._

"You want somethin' to drink, miss?"

The owner was right in front of my face, stinking of cigarettes and stale grease. I had been mad at him for eleven months now- for his stupid no-décor fetish- but I needed to keep him happy, too. Getting kicked out of the diner was not part of the plan.

"No thank you," I said sweetly. Coffee wasn't nearly as easy to hide away as coffeecake. I knew that the Cullens ate food sometimes, for show, but that was just plain disgusting.

"You waitin' for someone, then?" he asked, a knowing look in his eye.

"Yes," I said in a small voice. "He's due any minute. I think."

As if in reassurance, the first crack of thunder shook the air outside, and the owner shook his head in pity as the rain began to fall, darkening the windows with its curtain.

"Well, he ain't comin' now. Not with weather like that. Sorry."

I grinned behind my hands, waiting until his back was turned before tossing another chunk of cake into my purse. _I_ thought the weather was perfect. The Meeting vision began to shimmer with the urgency that always preceded the immediate future; it was seconds away now. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths as I waited, waited waited _waitedwaitedwaitedwaited_-

The door creaked, the bell jingled, and a glorious aroma wafted into the stale air of the diner. I took one final breath, opened my eyes, and turned to face my Destiny.


	6. 1948: Hope

**And here's Jasper's version. Let me just say this now, so no one gets disappointed at the end: Jasper's POV is also going to end with the diner scene (though a few seconds after Alice's did). Their relationship is so mystical, and so Fated, that I rather like the idea of leaving their romance unwritten. The next A&J outtake won't come for a while; it will be Jasper's POV of the 1950 meeting with the Cullens (leading up to when Edward enters the house). But if I need a break from 1950 in the meantime, I might post another random outtake or two before that.**

**Warning: Despite its title, this chapter is pretty bleak, and Jasper is depressed. Suidical thoughts/ideations are mentioned. **

I trudged into Philadelphia, checking the sky as it lightened. A nice smattering of clouds, and a menacing shadow off to the Southwest: at least something was going right today. As I entered the city, the street lights began to blink out, one by one, and the lamps in the houses and apartments began to glow. The human natives, starting their morning rituals and heading off to work.

One of them wouldn't make it home tonight. I had waited too long already.

I had been stretching it out to every three days, lately. When I was with Maria, I never went more than once a day. And back in the heady days of our victory in Monterrey, I had sometimes had _three_ square meals a day. She might have been a monster, but she sure knew how to feed a man.

It wasn't until decades later, when I was free, that Peter and I figured it out. The more I fed, the _worse_ I felt. I could never have made the connection before then; I was always drowning in negative emotions, that I never would have been able to separate out my own from the heap. And even if I had, I was so miserable that I still wouldn't have noticed. But once I was away from all that, and my radar was silent but for the love that Peter and Charlotte shared, it didn't take long to discover that I was still miserable. And it didn't take Peter long to realize that I was the most miserable- and made _them_ the most miserable- after feeding.

And so here I was, attempting the impossible. My goal was the same it had been for six months now: stretch it out to every four days. I knew that I could do it, physically. But the point was to go four days _without_ going on a slaughter spree. Waiting until tonight was risky as it was, but I was going to see if I could do it. My hands were shoved in the deep pockets of my overcoat, to hide the tremors. I had a headache, and my throat was an empty wasteland of thirst. But I could do it. If I was ever going to reach four days, I _had_ to do this. And I needed to keep improving. Because if I didn't have some kind of project, some kind of goal, I was going to lose my mind even faster.

I had thought, often enough, about ending it. I was sure that Maria would be happy to oblige, if I were to go back and check in. I was a deserter, after all, and deserters got executed. Of course, with my luck, she'd probably refuse. She'd probably shower me with blood and put me right back to work. Not that it would stop me- I'd just toss myself onto the front lines, when the next battle came, and that would be that. Suicide was easy when you knew your way around Central America.

I would probably do it. If going four days without murder was the highlight of my life, then what was the point?

_It's not murder_, I reminded myself. _They're just humans. __Food. __Cattle. __Easy-open containers of warm, delicious-_

My hands started to shake harder in my pockets, longing for a neck to grasp, to pull to my teeth. My venom burned as I swallowed it, and I shook my head. See, this is what happens when I go this long. I start thinking of them as _people_. As if I needed more misery. The misery wasn't supposed to come until tonight, when I fed. I would spend the day sniffing around the city, looking for the best specimen. After all, if I was stretching it out like this, it had better be good. Noon was the best time to shop around- the herds always came out to graze at the little diners that dotted whatever city I was hunting in. And then I would wait until my prey was done at work, and lure him in an alley or something. And, like always, I would kill as quickly as possible, to minimize the emotional backfire. I might be eternally depressed, but I wasn't a masochist.

I had never killed children, after leaving Maria. And I had stopped killing women a few years ago, for the most part. I had noticed that their emotions were bigger, at the moment of death, and those female emotions had a tendency to stay with me longer. Also, women were harder to get alone at night, unless they were the nasty kind who liked to stand on street corners- and their blood usually stunk like liquor, anyway. And, if I was honest with myself, I hated the idea of killing a lady who might have kids at home.

_Stop it! __They're not people, you idiot! _I clenched my teeth while my so-called "gift" unwillingly processed the guilt as it doubled back on itself. This was new, the guilt. I hadn't really felt much of it back when I was going every other day. It was days like this, when I was the most thirsty, and had the tremors, that I wished I could go longer, save more lives. And that always got me thinking about those lives. Husbands, fathers, neighbors, friends… they had jobs, kids, pictures of their families stuck in their wallets, plans to play golf with their buddies on Saturday…

All right, that was it. I wasn't going to make it until tonight. I was becoming a basketcase. I would wait until noon, and I would just have to use the darkest alley I could find- one with a dumpster, for the cleanup. My right hand clenched the matchbook in my pocket in anticipation. Only one match left. I would have to drink a smoker today, to get some more. Shouldn't be too hard, since almost all of them smoked.

I began my hunt in the Western edge of the city. My eyes were dark enough that I could go where I wanted, if I kept my gaze down. And I was still in control enough, fortunately, to shop around. This was new, going around in the daytime. Having a third day, when my control and my eye color were balanced just right. But if I didn't hurry this up, the balance was going to tip.

I stepped into a drugstore first, testing the air to see if there was anyone promising inside. I checked a department store next- usually not the best turnout there, if I wanted to get a male. Next, a hardware store. A barbershop. Come on…

I finally found my prey, two hours later, in the ground floor of an office building. He was sitting at the desk in the lobby, wearing a security guard uniform. And judging by his tired eyes, and the fatigue and boredom floating around him, he was working a double shift.

Excellent. An exhausted human was a trusting human. I stepped inside, pretending to look at the list of companies and office numbers on the wall, shaking my head in confusion. I hated engaging my prey in conversation, like this; it always got the guilt going again. But it was necessary if I was planning on luring him into a dark alley later. In the daytime.

"Can I help you, sir?"

I turned around, keeping my eyes down and sending him a subtle wave of trust. "Yes, I'm looking for Dr. Wells. He's a…" I dropped my voice, stepping closer. "A cancer doctor."

I felt his pity, right on schedule. Didn't even need to help this time.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said gently. "But I think you've got the wrong building. I have a phone book, though. Wells, you said?"

"No, that's all right," I interrupted in annoyance. "I know it's on this street- he must be in the other building. My memory's just not the best lately, what with the treatments and all. Thank you."

Another wave of pity hit me, and I smiled sadly as I turned and headed for the door. This guy was going to be way, way too easy. And he smelled _divine_. Not even a smoker: bad for the match situation, but very, very good for the taste. I paused with my hand on the door, taking one last whiff to tide myself over until his lunch break, and walked back out into the street.

I devised my plan as I walked, looking for the nearest diner. I had been pleased not to smell a bag lunch anywhere near my prey. I was instantly rewarded: a greasy-spoon joint just around the corner. No doubt he would make a beeline for it as soon as he got the chance. And there was a nice, shady alley between the diner and his building.

Maybe this day wasn't turning out so bad, after all.

I would be ready for him, standing just inside the alley, looking confused again and sending him as much pity as I could muster. I would cough, if necessary, to get his attention. He would approach me, having remembered my ill health and forlorn expression earlier. I would confess that I had never found the doctor, and missed my appointment. He would offer to help, being the nice guy that he was, and he would draw closer to me. I would savor his awe, for just a minute, as he took in my beauty up close, and when the coast was clear, I would simply pull him into the shadows, kill him, and feed.

And then, it would begin.

I would come down from the frenzy, to find myself drowning in the fear and horror that he had given me in his death throes. I would collapse from the weight of it, and curl up into a shivering ball, waiting for the worst to pass. Then I would stand up, burn him in the dumpster, and move on. Since it was daylight, I would prop the lid open just a crack- the smoke would vent out slowly enough to go unnoticed on a cloudy day. Though judging by the stink in the alley, the dumpster was due to be emptied soon. I would need to move to another part of the city before feeding again.

And that was all. This was what I did, because this was what I was. Kill, feel, wait, thirst, kill. Day in and day out, for the rest of eternity. Granted, it was much better than kill, kill, kill. But it wasn't much.

And when the day came when I couldn't stand it anymore, I had my plan. I would take matters into my own hands, and go back to Maria to end it. But, then again, the thought of seeing her again was repulsive. Maybe I could just wander South and get myself killed by whoever was in a bad mood that day- though there was the risk of not being truly killed, if it wasn't a formal battle. I didn't relish the thought of my pieces burning in pain as they crawled back together over the course of several hours.

Maybe I could find a skirmish going on. There was usually a fire going by the time the action was over, and the victors always cleaned up. I might still be in pain for a while that way, but at least I wouldn't have to see Maria.

It was as good a plan as any.

But not today. This guy was going to be good, and I wasn't sure if I was _that_ depressed yet. I would see how I felt after feeding. I probably had a good two hours before he went on his lunch break, so I began to cross the street. Now that my body knew a meal was coming, the venom was flowing in earnest, but the tremors had subsided. Maybe there was a library around somewhere. That was one thing I enjoyed, at least- learning. And a library was a nice habitat for me: poor lighting, and usually calm in terms of emotions. It wasn't often that I struck this balance, where my eyes were dark enough to be in public, and yet I was controlled enough to risk it in the daytime, when libraries had patrons around. If I could get to four days, maybe I could do this more often…

My nose twitched. Vampire. Very faint- hours old. Probably someone who was just passing through like I was, but I would need to be careful. I lived in constant fear of being recognized, even this far North. There were plenty of enemies that I had left alive- never on purpose, but it happened quite frequently. The armies that we had faced were just the same as ours- loosely-bonded savages whose only real drive was self-preservation. It was rare that I ever faced an army that had someone as old as me in command, unless it was the leader himself. And even when there was a good commander, desertion was common, once it became clear that death was imminent.

I had always wondered what had happened to deserters. I even asked Maria once, when she was in a particularly good mood. She had assured me that the whole populated world was one big battlefield, and that anyone who ran from one battle just found themselves in the middle of another.

And, being the sycophantic idiot that I was, I had believed her.

Now that I knew the truth, I had no way of knowing how many of our kind were wandering about. I assumed that many were peaceable, and had never had any contact with the Wars. Peter and Charlotte had encountered a few like that, before returning for me- but I wasn't about to press my luck. When I smelled vampire, I went the other way.

So now that I smelled it, here in Philadephia, my instincts started itching to run out of town. And I would, after I fed. I decided against my library trek, as well. It was better to stay in one place, and not spread my scent around. I slowed my steps and began loitering around the stores on my block, taking care not to cross directly in front of my prey's building.

Before long, there was a crash overhead, followed by a flash of lightening. I looked up, to feel the first raindrops on my face.

Great. Just great. The humans around me put up their umbrellas. And those that hadn't been prepared pulled up their collars and started running for cover, grumbling about the weather. It was just water, for crying out loud. And now I had to get out of the rain too, or I would attract attention. I could go back to the alley. I could wait there, but then I would be a drowned rat by the time my prey came by later. It would help with the pity-me part, but I hated being drenched. My lack of body temperature, my coat and my longish hair made drying off an hours-long process. I glanced back toward the diner- maybe I would just duck in there for a while. I would have to put up with the greasy stink of the food, but that actually might help to keep my thirst at bay while I waited. And if I sat in one of the booths, I would have a nice view of the entrance to my prey's building.

The rain was my friend, I supposed, in the case of there possibly being another vampire about. His scent was already gone. My scent would wash away just as easily while I was holed up in the diner, and then I could feed without fear of being interrupted. I still felt nervous, but I knew the chances of encountering the stranger had just gone down. It was funny, though. Now that I actually was at risk of getting into a fight, I wanted to avoid it. Maybe I wasn't as depressed as I thought.

I turned the corner, pulled up my collar like the rest of them, and headed for the diner. I glanced through the windows, not wanting to walk into an enclosed space filled with delicious, rain-logged humans. I didn't have a complete view of the interior, but it appeared empty, save for the filthy, obese proprietor who was just turning around, away from the counter. I would go in, ask for a cup of coffee, and swish it around in my cup until the rain stopped, or until I saw my prey exit his building. I wished I had thought of it five minutes earlier; my hair was already wet, sending rivulets of rain down the overcoat. I brushed absently at the extra moisture, hoping my last match hadn't gotten wet.

I swung the door open, annoyed by the jingle that announced my entry. But my annoyance quickly turned to fear as the smell of fresh vampire hit me- the same one as before. My eyes darted to the tiny female sitting at the counter, who was just turning to look at me. She was slender, with a pretty pink dress and short black hair which stuck out as if it was trying to get away from her head. My feet ached to run, though I knew she was no real threat; I could kill her before she had a chance to blink.

But I was too curious to leave yet- there was something odd about this girl. For one thing, her eyes were the most peculiar shade of… gold? And her smile when she saw me was out of place, as well. Wasn't she frightened of me? I was a male, after all, and much bigger than her. And there was only one witness- a disposable one, at that.

No, she wasn't frightened. In fact, her emotions were the most perplexing thing of all. I was being bombarded with excitement, relief, anxiety, certainty, and something else. Something I had only felt once before, from Peter and Charlotte, and only directed at each other.

It was love, and it was aimed right at me.

Love?

_Me_?

I felt a sudden urge to turn and look behind me, to see who she was really looking at. But I didn't, because she was already hypnotizing me with her golden eyes.

She hopped down from her stool, approaching me head on. Did she seriously think a frontal attack was a good idea? I stiffened, both in the face of her ridiculous strategy, but also in confusion as her misplaced emotions drew closer and closer. There must be some mistake…

She stopped sixteen inches away from me, her smile lighting up her little face. She took a deep breath, and spoke in a high, tinkling voice that shot right through my apprehension.

"You've kept me waiting a long time."

What was I supposed to say to something like that? Her love was so close now, I felt like I was floating in it. My feet were lifting off the ground, and my head was spinning with her scent.

And so I said the only thing I could think of. Because for some odd reason, I suddenly felt reduced to the nineteen-year-old boy that I was, staring at a pretty girl and stammering for something poetic to say. I ducked my head bashfully, and murmured, "I'm sorry, ma'am."

Her smile grew even bigger, and she extended her hand. And, much to my surprise, I found my hand meeting hers, and that was it.

I was lost.

Her touch sent a shock wave through me, lighting up every cell with life and color. Her love and relief tripled instantaneously, and a new emotion was borne out of the mix. This one was tricky, because I was very, very unfamiliar with it. Uncertainty? Anticipation?

It was hope, I finally decided. It seemed at odds with the certainty and relief that were coating every emotion she was sending me. What was she hoping for, as her tiny fingers laced through my own? All I knew was that my other hand reached up to meet her other one, and we both leaned forward, breathing in each other's scent more fully. I tightened my grip on her fingers and pulled her closer, and closer, until my hesitant embrace was a blanket around her slim shoulders. She was almost a foot and a half shorter than me; she was practically lost inside my arms. I had only held vampires like this before for one reason, and one reason only: to behead them.

And here she was, leaning into my chest, her eyes closing and _trust_ pouring out of her. I suddenly felt a most peculiar urge to protect this strange girl, who was trusting me with her life. And her heart, it seemed. There it went again! The hope, surging stronger and stronger.

"Well! Looks like he made it after all."

The human's voice snapped us back to reality, and I discovered that I had been bending down, my cheek on the top of her head. I straightened back up, released one of the girl's hands, and reached behind me to open the door again. As we stepped out into the rain, staring at each other, it finally dawned on me. The hope wasn't coming from her at all.

It was coming from _me_.


	7. 1927: Failure

**Several of you voted for the various Carlisle 1927 outtakes that I had suggested, and so I decided to combine them all into one larger outtake here. This is actually important down the line, in the 1950 story. In preparation for this outtake you may want to reread the final chapter of 1926, and probably the "Departure" chapter of 1927. And speaking of 1926, I have, over the past week, made some enhancements to that story, especially in the final chapters. Nothing major, I just wanted to expand on the writing a bit with some extra dialogue and some extra Edward-thinking. **

* * *

**Carlisle POV**

Esme and I had spent all night looking for Edward. His petulance during our telephone call yesterday had shocked Esme, but that was par for the course lately. It had been obvious that a human had been present in the room, what with his use of the words "Mom" and "Dad". And the fact that he rarely used such intimate terms had made it all the more hurtful.

But his deliberate disobedience was truly puzzling. I couldn't remember a single time, not even in his volatile newborn months, when he had actually _defied_ me. At least had had given a reason, though it had been disguised in human vocabulary- that he needed to hunt. But after the sun had set, we had truly grown worried and headed into the woods to search.

Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Edward had been under a lot of stress lately, after all. And when he had continually refused to confide in me, I had swallowed my hurt and given him his space. I needed to remember that he was seventeen. His identity would always be a confusing mix of boy and man, and perhaps his recent mood swings were actually more normal than not.

There was the troubling component of his thirst, though. I hadn't seen his eyes a healthy gold in two months now, and I knew he was hunting more and more often. His emotions had been turbulent, and tending more towards anger, though he had usually remained polite, if not amiable. It must be the emotional turmoil that was causing his thirst to grow- intense emotions had a way of burning through a vampire's energy, making him needing to feed more often. The trouble was, I still had no idea what was causing this recent upheaval. There had been the visit from Demetri and Jane, a few months ago; though Edward hadn't started his downward spiral until he had returned to school in January. He had been strangely silent for a while after their departure, but not belligerent. Perhaps that was really when the problem had begun. Perhaps I had hurt him more than I thought, when I had spoken for him that day. Perhaps _I_ was the problem.

Well, whatever it was, I had let this go on long enough. I just hoped that Edward would be home when we got back to the house, and that he would have a good explanation for his behavior. But regardless of his excuses, I was through walking on eggshells. He was going to tell me what was going on, whether he wanted to or not.

I was relieved, then, and nervous, when I caught his fresh scent near the house. Esme sighed in relief as well, squeezing my hand silently. I swallowed, unsure how to proceed. It was one thing to resolve to become a more involved father, but it was another to do it. What if he refused to talk, even when I demanded his cooperation? What was I supposed to do _then_, if my efforts were met with more of his stony silence?

We entered the backyard, to find Edward also coming out of the woods, around the eastern edge of the yard. He looked terrible, and my anger dissolved immediately when I saw him. His eyes were almost black, with dark circles underneath, and a drawn, starved look on his face. As he drew toward us, his expression hardened, not into the regret I had been hoping to see, nor the tortured confusion that he had been wearing for weeks now.

He looked _resolved_.

Esme broke away from me and ran into his arms. As he held her, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as though he had been starved for her scent. Or as though… I felt a sinking feeling. He looked as though he was memorizing her scent, breathing it for the last time.

"Well, son?" I murmured, afraid.

He straightened up, still holding Esme with one arm. He clenched his jaw, and I stopped breathing.

He spoke slowly at first. "Carlisle… Esme…" He licked his lips, and said the rest in a rush. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry for my behavior lately. Neither of you have deserved my rudeness, or the strain I have put on this… family."

I relaxed a bit. Maybe I had been reading him wrong. Maybe his "resolve" had simply been regarding giving his apology. After all, what seventeen-year-old likes to admit that he was wrong? I laid my hand hesitantly on his shoulder, taking the opportunity he was giving me.

"Whatever it is, Edward, we can deal with it together. We always have." _Please, son, let me help you. __Talk to me. __We can go into the woods, alone if you like, and…_

My hopeful thought faded away as he looked down at me, the resolve still strong in his eyes. "Not this time," he said.

Esme drew in a sharp breath, clinging more tightly to his shoulder. "You're… you're leaving us?"

Edward nodded, and the sounds of the forest vanished. All I could hear were Esme's words echoing, over and over: _You're leaving us?_

Suddenly Edward's eyes snapped down to Esme's, and he caught her up in another hug. But she pushed him away, staring desperately into his eyes, no doubt begging him mentally to reconsider. His eyes darted, pained, back and forth between the two of us as we thought our protests. _Edward, no! __Let's just slow down. __Let's talk about this! __Let me help you, please!_

When he spoke again, his voice was uneven, uncertain. "I'm sorry, it's just that… I need some time alone. I need to… I need to be on my own for a while."

"For how long?" asked Esme in a trembling voice.

He swallowed. "I... I don't know."

I just shook my head. This couldn't really be happening; it was all a misunderstanding. "Edward, please… your mother and I don't understand. Up until a few months ago, you were happy. What happened to make you-"

My voice cut off as my throat filled with venom, and with fear. I knew exactly what had happened, when all this had begun: the visit from the Volturi. It didn't explain his recent deterioration, but no other event had really happened in the past year. What if he had decided to accept their offer, after all? What if his brooding over these past months had actually been brooding over the decision to go- the decision I had thought over and done with? What if he was heading to Italy right _now_? _Edward, no, don't go to them! __Once you are in Aro's clutches, you'll never be free again! __Is that what you want?_

But he shook his head, answering the question in my panicked thoughts. He finally stepped toward me and embraced me, whispering in my ear, "I won't go to them, I promise."

I relaxed, but only a bit. If he wasn't going to the Volturi, then where was he going? He pulled out of my arms and began backing away, his jaw clenched in his final resolve.

"I love you both," he said in a shaking voice as he took another step backwards. "Please understand; I will always be grateful for the years we have spent together. I could not have chosen two better friends… or parents." His voice broke in the end, and for a split second I saw my son again, the seventeen-year-old boy who was confused and trying to make a decision that was bigger than he was.

And then he was gone.

He turned and ran- there was no point in trying to catch him. I just stood, unbreathing in my shock as I called to him frantically. _Please, son! __I don't understand. __Please come back when you are able. __We'll stay in this house as long as we can. __We love you, Edward, we always will. __Please come home! __Edward!_

Esme was weeping in earnest right now, and it was all I could do to hold her without weeping, myself. I knew he could hear her- didn't he see that he was breaking her heart? But I couldn't find it within myself to be angry.

He was breaking my heart, as well.

.

.

.

Esme and I stood in silence, waiting for the bad dream to end. Surely any minute he would return. He would apologize to Esme. He would finally break down and weep, and he would finally tell me what was going on. We would figure it out, and our family would remain whole.

Hours passed, and day faded into night. Still, we stood frozen, staring at the trees that had swallowed our son. Finally, well after sunset, the phone rang. I sprung to life, jumping in through an open window upstairs- Edward's window- and nearly broke the telephone receiver as I snatched it off the hook.

"Edward?" I gasped. _Please, please…_

But it was Harry's voice, from the hospital. "Carlisle? Is that you?"

I sighed my disappointment, shaking my head to Esme, who had just rushed into the hallway. She started to weep silently again, turning away and closing the bedroom door behind her. "It's me, Harry. What can I do for you?"

"How about showing up for work on time?" he said coldly. "If you're still sick, you could have called in, at least!"

I glanced lifelessly over to the clock in the hall: 8:30. "Oh," I said.

"So, are you coming, or not?" he demanded.

"I'm not," I said flatly, and hung up the phone. I need the line clear, in case Edward called. I just stood there, staring at the phone, until I felt Esme's arms around me. I blinked, and it was daylight again.

"What are we going to do?" Esme whispered.

Do? What was there to do? Edward didn't want to be a part of our family anymore. Or at least he thought he didn't. What could I do, other than stand here and wait for him to come back, or call?

I had to do _something._

"I'm going to look for him," I announced.

Esme nodded silently. "I'll stay here, in case he calls or comes back another way."

I jumped back out his open window, running to follow his scent. I cursed myself as I ran; why didn't I think of this earlier? Had he wanted me to follow him? I didn't think so, considering the speed at which he had departed. But I had to try. If there was even a chance that he was sitting somewhere in this forest, curled up in some tree branch and analyzing himself to death- it wouldn't be the first time- then I had to try. I should have tried last night. I should have followed him…

But all I found was a tangled mess of his scent. He had criss-crossed our section of the forest several times, and I couldn't help but feel a little angry. He had obviously done this so that I wouldn't be able to follow him. He truly _didn't_ want to be found this time.

The sun was setting again when I finally gave up and returned home. I jumped back in through Edward's window, quietly closing the window behind me this time. If this room was going to be the last place to bear his scent, I wanted to keep the air saturated with it as long as possible. I breathed in deeply, and an odd pain tore down the center of my chest as I smelled my son's sweet aroma. It was everywhere in this room; especially on the couch, his favorite books, the globe, his journals…

I swallowed, as I remembered the way he had locked himself in here so often lately, pouring his heart out into his journal, instead of to me. I wondered if he knew how many hours I had stood in the hallway, right outside his door, wishing he would ask me to come in and talk. How many hours I had stood there, listening to the frantic scratching of his pen as he confided whatever-it-was to a lifeless volume, when he knew his father was standing a mere ten feet away, patiently waiting for his trust.

I had been too patient, it seemed. I had a mind to…

I glanced out at the hallway, and saw Esme standing in a trance exactly where I had left her: staring at the telephone. She wasn't even breathing, and I was sure she hadn't heard me come in. I quietly closed the bedroom door, and, before I could think better of it, I crossed the room to Edward's bookshelf and pulled out the stack of unlabelled journals.

Was I really going to do this? I might as well, now. My scent was already on them. If he returned tomorrow, and got angry at me for touching them, at least I might as well learn what I could. I tossed the earlier ones onto the leather couch, and opened the one that had been on the far right of the stack.

_5 January, 1926_

_School has resumed. __I am continuing in my efforts to learn German solely from Mr. Heilsberg's thoughts. __I have most of the vocabulary down, but still having difficulty distinguishing…_

I tossed that one onto the couch, flipping through the first pages of each of the others to find the one from this year.

_1 January, 1923_

_Heavy snow this morning, and Esme built a snowman out by the road while Carlisle and I…_

_._

_5 January, 1920_

_Carlisle told me that I can't go to town during the day anymore. __All the other young people are back in school, and I would have difficulty explaining my presence, as I am not supposed to exist. __He says that when we move this summer, I will be ready to start school in our new home. __I cannot wait to…_

_._

_20 March, 1919_

_Carlisle says it will help if I write down my thoughts in here, when it gets bad. __That if I can organize the (expletive) circus going on in my head, and separate it from my own thoughts, that I will be able to keep calm for longer periods of time. __I don't see why we need to live so close to the humans now. It's not like I'm allowed to go outside the house when he isn't here. __I wasn't…_

_._

_2 January, 1921_

_Just returned from spending Christmas with our cousins up in Alaska. __Had a pleasant time with Eleazar, who spent some time teaching me some new fighting techniques. __And Carmen was warm and friendly, as always. __Irina was tolerable, though her thoughts are always so sharp. __But as for the other two… if I never see a female vampire again, it'll be too soon. __Tanya actually…_

_._

_1 January 1922_

_Another New Year. __Actually looking forward to returning to school tomorrow. __I love my parents, but if I have to listen to their amorous imaginings one more time…_

_._

_10 February 1925_

_Have waited to begin this year's entries until I had something interesting to write, but I haven't, so I might as well begin anyway. __Back at school, and to the same monotony as…_

_._

_19 October 1918_

_As per my request, Carlisle got this journal for me when he went into town today. __Just remembered last week that I used to do this back when I was human. __Back when I was alive. __I would have had my birthday by now, if it hadn't been for the (expletive) Spanish Flu. __Of course, there's really no point in pretending that I have any sort of…_

_._

_3 January 1924_

_School resumed today. __Sometimes I wish I could sleep through my classes, the way some of my peers do. __If I didn't have my…_

_._

I dropped the last one, looking around the room in frustration. Where was the 1927 one? I knew he had journaled profusely in recent weeks. I looked through the rest of the bookshelf, through the drawers in his desk, even under his mattress.

Gone.

He couldn't have taken it with him- he hadn't even been wearing a coat, and the journals were too large to hide in one's pocket. He had even left his wallet behind. It was more likely that he had destroyed it, so that I wouldn't be able to read it. My anger rose again, but it was tampered by guilt, that he had suspected the very breach of privacy that I was already committing.

Well, I would make do with what I had. I sat back down on the couch and arranged the journals by year, and began to read. I tried not to be offended by the vulgar language and crumpled pages in the two earliest. Edward's newborn period had been doubly difficult. His thirst had been challenging enough, being complicated by my own, and by the time we had gotten that mostly under control, then he had to go through a whole other "newborn period" as I brought him back closer to human society.

The thoughts and dreams of our neighbors had bombarded him mercilessly- along with my own, of course. And as I had begun to work again, we encountered yet another challenge; Edward was severely affected when I thought about patients I had seen that day, as my memories often included up-close human scents, and imagery containing plenty of blood. I had switched from the Emergency Room to the Convalescent Floor, and I had slowly begun to learn controlling my work-related thoughts around my new son. These changes had helped. All in all though, Edward's first sixteen months had been a trying time for both of us.

As I read on through the years, I watched as Edward processed and commented on his "non-life", as he often called it in the journals. I wasn't surprised to see his cynicism come out so clearly, but I was saddened by it. And even more sad was the standard to which he held himself, even in his first year. Never once did he accuse me directly of anything- even of destroying his soul- but it was clear that he had continued to struggle with such issues, long after our debates had died down. Actually, it seemed as though he often wrote about me with a sort of reverence, even when his words about me were complaints.

It wasn't all doom and gloom, of course. Edward also recorded personal events, as well as local and national news, weather, his studies, his interests- and ours, and comments about his music. I was touched to see his fretting over Esme's newborn troubles, and his pride in her successes. And I was especially pleased to read his tender account of Esme's and my whirlwind romance, and how happy he was for us, despite the difficulties that it caused him, personally. I thought, for a moment, about calling Esme in to read that part, but decided against it.

By the time I reached early autumn of 1926, I had grown accustomed to the tedium, and often, disinterest, with which Edward recorded things. The only phrases that had any life to them were when he had learned something new, or anything about books and music, or when he was writing about our little family. So when I turned the page to the one containing the account of Demetri's and Jane's visit, I was surprised to find that this was the longest entry he had ever made. He had described, in incredible detail, every second of their visit, including everything that both of them, and Esme and I, had thought. I winced to read his description of the pain that Jane's gift had brought him, and it hurt even more to read the truth that I had suspected I might find- that he had resented my presumption that day, in speaking for him.

But the worst shock was still to come. There was an inkblot at the end of the narrative, as though he had held his pen in place for a while. And then a new paragraph:

_I have never before considered what other paths are available, other than this one. __Will I always live with those I call my parents, playing the eternal teenage son? __I am grateful that I began this life with a teacher, and I love Carlisle and Esme as if they were truly my parents. __But is it right that I should forever defer to a man who, by human standards, is only six years my elder? __Most vampires live alone, after all. __If I were to spend some time on my own, would I necessarily continue to follow the dietary choices of my creator? __Perhaps the difference between a good life and a bad life is not as defined as Carlisle seems to think – in fact, I do not have life at all. __I am dead in so many ways – perhaps my soul has already flown above, or perhaps it was destroyed when I was bitten, infused with the means to become more than human. __I cannot imagine that God still sees me in the same way as He did before. __Rather, He must see my kind as the predatory animals that we are. __Why should I cling to a moral structure that assumes my humanity? If I __were to try-_

There was a squiggle of ink trailing off the word "try", and then the sentence continued.

_-a natural lifestyle, would I be sinning? __Would it even matter? __Would it be so wrong to, someday, see what I have been missing? __I know that Carlisle has tasted human blood, though he was careful not to dwell on it, when he changed me and Esme. __Is it so wrong to be curious? __I have always been so careful- militant, even- in my refusal to dwell on the tempting scents of my human peers and teachers, or others that I find myself near. __And I acknowledge that it was necessary, back in the beginning._

_But I am a mature vampire now- I no longer fear losing control of myself. __Perhaps I have been a little too austere. __There would be no harm in relaxing my sensory rigidity, and appreciating those scents that I find myself near. __In fact, it might be a good idea. __It would strengthen my control to a whole new level, and it would possibly satisfy that part of myself which is thirsting for more than it is being given. __In this way, I can keep my resolve on the matter of diet itself, and Carlisle and Esme will still have their son. __I am determined to make myself in every way content, and to remain in this lifestyle with those I love._

My hands were shaking by the time I finished that day's entry. It had been dated just three weeks after the Guard's departure, and it was followed by a list, dated the very next day.

A list of scents.

He had returned to school the next morning, and begun analyzing the human scents around him. At first, he busied himself by separating out the different types of scents- blood was just called "blood", in a list of others: breath, food recently eaten, alcohol, traces of medication types, soaps, fabrics, etc. But by the second week of his new "analysis", he was already teasing out each person's individual blood scent, and describing it in detail.

In _great_ detail.

Interspersed between the lists were one-sided arguments about the relative morality of vampires feeding on humans. And while he never mentioned doing so himself, it was obvious that he was trying to talk himself into getting used to the idea.

By the time the entries reached December, I noticed he was dwelling especially on a girl named Margaret Weiss. He wrote about her scent often, and while he never mentioned the word "taste", it was obvious that he was spending as much time near her as possible, and others who smelled especially tempting. He had finally used the word "tempting" in mid-December, along with other notable shifts in his word choices. His handwriting was slightly altered by the end, as well- more rushed, less precise. His eloquence never suffered, though; in fact, he had become downright poetic in some of his descriptions. His attentions to human blood had progressed very quickly from analysis, to fixation, to obsession. His two entries over Christmas vacation reminded me of the language sometimes used by alcoholics, when they were going through withdrawal. He never came out and said it, but it was clear that for the first time ever, he had been counting the minutes until he returned to school, and it wasn't because of the academics.

It ended there. Without seeing the 1927 journal, I could only guess at what had happened between December 31 and now, that had made him decide to leave. But one thing was clear: my son had been drowning in substance abuse, and I hadn't even known it. Human science had already proven that the sense of smell was actually processing small amounts of matter; it wasn't much of a leap to apply that truth to Edward's situation. If anything, the phenomenon would be _more_ pronounced in a vampire. I doubted that blood cells could travel through the air, but a human's scent was closely linked to the qualities of their blood. He had, essentially, been drawing in miniscule amounts of human blood via scent- increasing amounts- and his body had reacted accordingly. He had slowly been turning into a traditional vampire, though he himself hadn't know it. All those benefits which our lifestyle brought us had been falling away, over the course of a few months.

Everything made sense now. The mood swings, the extra time journaling, the thirst and hunting issues, the trouble at school…

All under my very nose. And I just stood there, passively wishing that my son would talk to me. What kind of a father _was_ I? He hadn't known to ask for help. I remembered the confusion on his face, those times when he had needed to hunt more often than usual. And I called myself a physician! My son, my own _son_ had needed help and I hadn't known it.

I touched the journals gently, as a biological parent might tenderly touch the tiny, framed pictures of their child, taken at different ages. As much as I wanted to give in to despair, I couldn't. I had done the best that I could as a father, though it hadn't turned out to be enough. I had, ultimately, failed, but there was no point in drowning myself in guilt, other than to feel more pain. And my patients needed me. Esme needed me.

_Edward_ needed me. Where was he? And more importantly, what was he _doing?_

I hated to suspect the worst. I hated to think that the 1927 entries would have shown me a young man who had decided, after months of fighting temptation, that he didn't want this lifestyle anymore. That he had decided to start hunting humans, after getting so many small doses of their blood without even knowing it. That this very moment, his eyes were… red. But try as I might, I couldn't deny the direction that his journal entries, and his recent behavior, pointed towards.

I desperately tried to come up with scenarios in which Edward hadn't become a murderer. But the strongest hope I could muster was that he had just buckled under the stress of his addiction, and sought solitude in the wilderness, as he had done before. That his parting words had been an adolescent overreaction to his mental state, and that he was already regretting them. That he was continuing to resist the darker side of his nature, and that he would soon return home- perhaps even more broken than we had seen him before, but ready for the loving comfort of his parents. His eyes haunted, but still golden.

It wasn't that murder was so outrageous. Of course it was awful- and my heart ached for the families which might already be suffering because of my creation- but that wasn't my main worry. Accidents happened, and young men made foolish mistakes, though they didn't generally involve murder. After decades of deliberation, I had accepted that risk, when I changed Edward. No, my fear was for Edward himself. I feared that when he came to his senses, either after the first kill, or centuries later, that he would be torn apart by the guilt and grief that were sure to descend upon him. He had always been a dutiful son, but that was not because he was meek. It was because he was obsessed with duty, itself. He had always been hard on himself, and I shuddered to think how long it would take him to get to the point where the horror of his deeds would strike him down.

_Stop_, I commanded myself. _You don't know that he's done any of that, at least not yet._ I could still hope- albeit weakly- for the other scenario. But even if that were the case, I still had no way of finding him. All I could do was hope and pray that he found his way back to us before long… no matter what color his eyes were tonight.

I set the journals back in their place on the bookshelf, and made one last search of Edward's room for the missing journal. When I had done this, I finally opened the bedroom door.

"Esme."

She gasped and spun around, looking past me eagerly. Her shoulders drooped when she didn't find who she was looking for. "No sign of him?"

"No."

She took a deep breath. "Now what?"

I closed my eyes, deliberating. Should I tell her what I had just read? I knew that keeping something this big from my wife was wrong, but it would be cruel to let her see what I had just seen. He might come home soon, after all; perhaps tonight, or tomorrow. There was no point in subjecting her to the worry that I was carrying, especially if it would end up being unnecessary by this time tomorrow.

But then I looked at her again. Her own eyes were black now, but not from thirst. Her only child had been swept away from her- again- and this time, she didn't know what to think. I had to give her something. I would share my worry with her. I wouldn't tell her about the journals, though. It was unnecessary, and I couldn't bear for her to see the lifelessness with which Edward had described his "non-life", not to mention the sudden "awakening" in his writing at the end. If I had only his written words to go by, I would have thought that he was happier since his addiction had begun. But I only had to remember his deepening anger and confusion, lately, to know what a lie that was. I would keep these darker burdens to myself, even as I laid the worst one on her heart. As his mother, she deserved no less than what I feared was the truth.

"Esme." I laid my hands on her shoulders, and gently drew her to me. "Surely you've noticed how… differently Edward has been acting lately. Especially in regards to his thirst."

She shrugged. "Of course."

"Darling… I think we need to consider the possibility that Edward has truly decided to… move on." How did I want to say this? "He's been getting thirstier lately, and his behavior has been a little less… civilized of late."

"Of course it was," she said sadly. "He was hurting. But instead of letting us help him, he just-" Her face scrunched up toward weeping again, and I pulled her face into my chest.

"I know, dear. I wish he hadn't done that. But I've been doing some thinking, and I think he left because… well, maybe he didn't want to hurt us."

"What do you mean?"

I held her tighter, so tight that she couldn't breathe. "I think that Edward may have decided to begin hunting humans."

She yanked away from me, her face stricken. "Why?" she demanded. "Why do you think that? He's never said anything about being unhappy… that way."

I tried to reach for her, but she backed away, shaking her head angrily. "How could you, Carlisle? How could you say that about our _son_? He's never even made a mistake before!"

"I know, I know. But you have to admit, it explains everything."

"No, it doesn't! His eyes-"

"He hadn't done it yet, when he left. But I think that is why he left, Esme. I can't be sure, but… I think we need to accept the possibility."

She began to cry again, and she finally let me hold her as she shook her head over and over against my shoulder. "You're wrong," she said, when she could speak again. "I know you're wrong."

"I hope I am," I said gently. "But for now, there's nothing we can do except wait for him to return."

She nodded, pulling away and wiping her eyes, as if real tears were flooding them. "You should go to work," she said flatly. "I'll wait for him here."

"Work?" I echoed. I looked at the clock; if I left now, I might actually be on time. "Yes, I think that's best," I murmured, and I went mechanically to get my coat.

Esme followed me to the front door, and I turned to kiss her goodbye, hoping I had done the right thing by telling her. "Esme, listen. If he does come back while I'm at work, and his eyes are… I mean, if I was right, it doesn't matter. Accident or not. We'll forgive him and help him clean up, and then we'll move."

She just nodded, looking down at nothing. As the door shut in my face, I keenly felt the absence of Edward's gift. What was my wife thinking right now? Was she angry, or did she just need to be alone? Did she really think I was wrong? Mothers had a way of knowing things. Maybe she was hurt because she knew I was right.

.

.

.

I was shoving my coat into my locker when Harry found me. He wasn't happy.

"Well, Carlisle Cullen finally decided to join us!"

I turned around, too exhausted to defend myself. "Harry, I'm sorry about yesterday…"

"Hmph! Well, every man needs a day off now and then, but I can't say I've ever been hung _up_ on by one of my docs before. What do you have to say for yourself, Cullen?"

I just stared back at him, with every ounce of "trust me" that I could pour into it. "I'm sorry, Harry. It won't happen again."

His gaze softened; but it seemed that I had achieved pity, rather than trust. "All right. We'll let it go." He leaned in closer. "I know that look, Carlisle. Your wife left you, didn't she?"

I laughed once, an empty, false sound. "No, my wife didn't leave me. My son…" I looked at my boss. He was the closest thing I had to a friend. And he had a son Edward's age. Well, Edward's physical age. "My son left home suddenly."

Harry leaned back on his heels, nodding his head sympathetically. "Been there," he grunted.

"What?"

"Jonny just took off once- last year, actually. Barely said goodbye, just said he needed to be on his own for a while."

I slammed my locker, staring at him. I couldn't really confide in Harry, but the situations were uncannily similar. And I knew that Jonny was still at home now- he had just come in the other day to have his father sign a school paper. "And what happened?"

He barked out a laugh- much jollier than my own had been. "He called me a week later, asking me to come and get him. Turns out he had been ten miles away, the whole time. He had gone straight to my sister's house, and she didn't even tell me. Can you believe it?"

"No."

"Well, believe it. Turns out he had been running with the wrong crowd, and panicked when the police started sniffing around. Not that my Jonny had done anything wrong himself," he added hastily.

"Of course not," I said absently. "Harry?"

"Shoot."

"I hate to do this, but…"

He waved his hand. "Go on, go home. You look like hell, anyway."

I nodded my thanks and ran to the telephone.

"Esme, anything?"

"No."

"I'll be home in fifteen minutes. I want you to write Edward a note- tell him we'll be back tomorrow, and to wait for us, no matter what."

"Where are we going?"

I took a deep, hopeful breath. "Alaska."

.

.

.

"Why don't they have a telephone?" Esme asked as we flew up the highway toward Denali.

"They always live in the same place, and so they like to stay as inconspicuous as possible. Besides, they don't see the need for one."

"Except in situations like this," she said bitterly. "He could be getting home right now, and here we are driving farther away."

"I know. But we have to try this. It's the only place he might have gone to."

"Unless he's out murdering humans," she said coldly, her words full of accusation. At me.

I sighed, looking over at her tiredly. "Esme…"

She just shook her head, and looked out the window. We drove the rest of the way in silence. But as the Denali's house came into view, she leaned forward with expectation. She had never met our cousins before, and I couldn't believe so much time had passed since we had come here. I had been about to have us all make the trip after Demetri and Jane had come. But Edward hadn't been himself at the time, and I had decided that subjecting him to the busyness of our extended family could wait for another time- especially if Tanya was up to her old tricks. I supposed that I was also a little nervous about the "succubus sisters". I loved my cousins, and they had long since given up on trying to seduce _me_.

I regretted it now, though. Eleazar was the closest thing Edward had to an uncle or an older brother, and it might have been good for him to have someone else to talk to. Maybe it would have prevented some of this wretchedness. I would never know now; I just hoped that Edward had possibly had the idea on his own, and he was here now. This was my last effort, and then I was going to accept the hard truth.

But as Esme and I ran up to the front door, I felt a surge of hope. Even if Edward hadn't come to stay here, maybe he had stopped in. I knew that he could run like the wind, and it was entirely possible that he had already been here for at least a day. I sniffed the air eagerly, trying not to be disappointed when I found five scents, not six.

"Carlisle!" Tanya said happily as she open the door. "What a surprise!" Her eyes drifted to Esme, and there was a brief flicker of something ugly before she smiled warmly. "And this must be your Esme. Welcome to the family, dear! But where's Edward?"

Her question hit me harder than I had thought it would. "He's not here?" I asked weakly.

She shrugged. "No. Should he be? He's _your_ son, Carlisle. Don't tell me you've lost him!"

I just stared at her, and her face changed as she watched the despair set in. I knew that, logically, Edward not being here didn't really mean anything. He could be on his way, or he could still be near home, like Harry had said about his own son. But for some reason, this was the moment when I knew, I _knew_ that my theory was correct. I knew it, in my petrified bones.

Edward had truly left us. He had left us, and he was out there somewhere, killing people and drinking their blood. As his creator, I might as well be killing them myself. I felt like I was shrinking down into my shoes, like the insides of me were being torn out. I felt my failure as a father settle over me, and one questioned echoed desperately in my mind:

Would I ever see my son again?

The silence was interrupted by Eleazar, who pulled the door open fully. "Come in, Carlisle, Esme," he murmured. "Tell us everything."

The story didn't take long. I wasn't about to share what I had learned from Edward's journals, and I really didn't know what else to say, other than what Esme and I had observed over the past few months. I wasn't even going to tell them my suspicion about his diet, but then Kate asked where I thought he had gone. Esme broke down crying then, and the ladies whisked her away upstairs.

Eleazar and I were left standing awkwardly alone in the living room. I quietly told him my suspicion, and he reluctantly agreed that it explained everything that had changed about Edward's behavior.

"If you ask me," he said quietly, "he's gone to take Demetri up on his offer."

"No, he hasn't."

"Why not?"

"I just don't think that's where he is," I replied tiredly. I couldn't bring myself to betray my son's private thoughts , not even to Eleazar. If he wanted to think that Edward went to Italy, let him.

"I mean, I wouldn't blame him if he did," Eleazar continued with a faraway look in his eyes.

I just clenched my teeth against the angry words that wanted to pour out. Eleazar was in one of his "missing Italy" moods, it seemed. No doubt the aftereffects of Aro's visit last year. But yelling at my cousin wasn't going to solve anything.

"If you do see or hear from him…" I began.

"We'll write, of course. Or bring him ourselves, if… you know."

If he wanted to be brought.

I murmured my thanks, and called Esme downstairs. I hated to leave again right away, but some dying part of me hoped that Edward might be at home, waiting for us.

"I'd like to get back," I told her when she appeared. Everyone nodded their understanding.

"Yes, of course. It was good meeting you all," she called over her shoulder as she flew out the door.

We drove in silence, the entire trip back to Montana. Somewhere around the state line, Esme slipped her hand in mine, and I rubbed the back of it with my thumb absently as I continued to think.

I supposed there was a chance that Eleazar was right, after all. Edward may have changed his mind after leaving, and headed to Italy- though I couldn't imagine him making such a journey on his own, even if he wanted to. But then, a week ago I wouldn't have imagine him killing people, either. Was it wrong of me to hope that he was _just_ killing people? That he was at least free, and not kneeling under the weight of a cloak as his new master looked on approvingly?

I didn't really believe that. Edward had specifically said that he wanted to be on his own, and he had given me his word that he wouldn't go to Aro. I just hoped that Edward's word still meant something.

.

.

.

Esme's weeping began again, when we pulled up to the empty house; we didn't need to smell the air to know that he wasn't here. The note was still fluttering on the door.

She didn't weep long this time. She took the note off the door, and placed it reverently on one of the endtables by the couch, ready to be used the next time we went out together. "He'll come back," she said firmly.

"He'll come back," I echoed. What else could I say? To give up completely was not an option.

It became our motto, in the weeks that followed. _He'll come back._ I didn't bring up my suspicion again, and neither did Esme. We both spent a lot of time in the yard, at the windows, in Edward's room… waiting. Watching the woods and waiting. Even when we stopped saying our motto, we still waited, refusing to lose hope.

We would wait forever, if we had to.

* * *

**So sad :( **

**A couple of notes here: I realize the terms "substance abuse" and "relative morality" may be a little anachronistic, but they were so accurate in this case that I couldn't think of good substitutes. Also, I want to point out that though he is quick to find fault with himself, I am trying to distinguish a major difference between Carlisle and Edward here: Carlisle doesn't brood, at least never for long. He will mourn Edward's departure deeply (after the shock has worn off), and I do think that until Edward's return he will feel, in a way, like he has failed as a father. But he will never lose hope, and he's not depressed. He has Esme, his patients, and his faith, both in God and in the innate goodness of Edward's soul. So while he is incomplete until Edward's return in '31, he's not broken. (Thank you to kiwihipp for help with this bit)**

**I will eventually be doing Carlisle's POV of Edward's return in 1931, which I think is also important for some of the later events in the 1950 story. Anyway, hope you enjoyed (in a sad, sweet way) this peek into Carlisle's side of things. Please review if you have time, and remember this is the place to request Tale of Years Outtakes! I have heard some great ideas already, and hope to get to them all eventually.**


	8. 1931: Complete (1 of 2)

**So here is Carlisle's POV of Edward's return in 1931; this is very important to do now, as we approach the first drama spike in the 1950 story. I want this to demonstrate how much Edward missed in these events, despite his ability to read Carlisle's mind. It's a bit tricky though: my whole point is that Edward can't see Carlisle's emotions here, but of course I had to write them out in words- so just assume that the EPOV version in the real story is what Edward is perceiving, as opposed to the extra insight we get here. I did break this up into two installments, but don't worry, the second half is coming very soon (hopefully by the end of today). And then I ****_promise_**** to go work on 1950 again! :) **

* * *

**Carlisle POV**

"And what did she say to that?"

Esme threw back her head and laughed, a sound like sparkling wind chimes that always warmed my heart. "She said that since her doll liked the dress I had made so well, that I needed to get busy making a hat and gloves to match!"

I laughed along with her, running my fingers through her hair with my right hand while I drove with my left. She was so beautiful, and so carefree, when she talked about the children at the hospital. Her life had truly opened up in the past couple of years, and she now found joy in spending time with humans, as I did. Neither of us had the luxury of associating with the local humans anymore, but she didn't mind the commute. In the beginning, she had only gone in on the days when I worked; she had been too timid to make the drive herself. But as she had gotten more comfortable with her new human friends- especially the children- she had grown more bold. Sometimes she even made the drive on her own, now. I still preferred to run, when I went alone, but women's attire, not to mention hairstyles, didn't stand up so well to that.

But tonight there was a fundraiser, to raise money for the Children's Ward at Jordan General Hospital. Esme had signed up to bring four dozen cookies, and we would be making the run together. I wasn't quite sure how I had gotten roped into this one; not only had I agreed to help Esme _bake_ the disgusting things, but then I had to carry them on the three-hundred mile run to the hospital. If we had gotten home earlier, we could have driven. But Esme and I had lost track of time out in the woods this morning, and morning had turned into afternoon. We had just dashed to the grocery store and, if we could bake fast enough, we might get there in time to be fashionably late to the fundraiser.

These busier days were the best. And sometimes, on days like this, and when Esme was happy like this, I was able to pretend that everything was all right, and that our family wasn't torn in half.

But it was. And too often, there were days, and nights, where we deeply felt the emptiness that our son had left behind. Last night had been particularly difficult. A tall, thin seventeen-year-old boy had come into the Emergency Room with a severe asthma attack. He had green eyes and bronze-colored hair, and as his mother pulled him into the treatment room, I had stood frozen as I watched him struggle to breath. Memories from 1918 had assaulted me, and when Esme had come to meet me at the end of my shift, she had taken one look at my eyes and suggested that we not go home this morning. We had gone to the woods instead, and that was why she was still dressed in her crumpled candy striper uniform, and why my bag was still down by her feet, next to the groceries. We had gone more than twenty-four hours without being home.

We would never have done this in the beginning. Esme hadn't wanted to leave the house for months, and whenever we did go hunting, she faithfully tacked up the note for Edward. That note, and our hopes for his quick return, had eventually been destroyed by time. We still had hope, but it was a fool's hope. Wherever my son was, coming home was probably the last thing on his mind.

I still pictured him with his golden eyes, though I knew the truth. Sometimes I wondered if he had found any friends to run with. I wondered if he ever played the piano anywhere. I wondered if he was happy; I hoped he was. But on nights like last night, I worried. I worried that Eleazar was right- that my son had gone to Aro. I worried that he had wandered too far South, and gotten himself swept up in the Wars. I worried that he had run into a hostile coven and had been…

_Stop it_, I ordered myself. _He's alive, and he's free. __He has to be._

I glanced over at Esme again, breathing in her scent and drinking in the sight of her smile. It had, ironically, been her accident which had brought about this new growth. She had gone hunting alone that day; something she normally didn't do. And when she had come home that night, the front of her dress covered in human blood and her eyes red, I had comforted her the best I could. In the days that had followed, she had determined that like me, she wanted to learn to be around humans, so that she could keep them safe from herself.

And now, two years later, she had found so much purpose in helping out in the Children's Ward. And her ruse was a simple one; she often reminded the nurses how squeamish she was around blood. So whenever blood was likely to be exposed, they kindly let her know ahead of time, and she left the area. It rarely came up anyway, since she was usually there at night. I was so proud of my Esme, and I was so relieved that she had found something like this.

But I knew that we would need to move on, and soon. We had already stayed far too long. We had gotten the groceries in another town today , and we were careful never to answer the door. But the risk went up every day, and we would need to find a way to leave some sort of permanent message for Edward to find, should he ever check back here. But no matter how many times we moved, and no matter how many centuries passed, I would have hope. I simply didn't have any other choice; vampires are unchanging in these matters. We would always be incomplete without our son.

"Carlisle?"

I smiled back at her, nodding. "Well, it's a good thing you're a vampire, darling. I doubt a human would be able to make gloves for a doll that tiny!"

She laughed again, wondering aloud if she should also make a little handbag. I pulled up to the house, and she gathered up the groceries.

"Do I really have to?" I teased, eyeing the cookie ingredients with distaste.

"Yes, you do," she laughed. "Besides, it's your fault that we lost track of time this afternoon."

"True, true," I sighed, picking up my doctor's bag. I opened the door and started toward the house-

Edward.

I sniffed again, drawing deeply on the air this time. There was no doubt about it! My heart exploded with hope as I looked around wildly. Where was he?! "Edward?"

Esme had frozen, as well, her nose in the air. She broke into a run, making a beeline for the house.

"Here."

I spun around, and I would have sworn I felt my dead heart stir again as I saw _my son_ step out of the shadows. Esme reached him first, and he flinched away from her embrace. He looked _awful_. He was barefoot, and his clothes were frayed and torn. His hair was a tangled mass, his eyes downcast, and he flinched again as I drew near. This was not the same young man that had struck off on his own four years ago.

He finally looked up, and Esme gasped in shock. I didn't need to see his eyes to know why. But as I ran up, I still faltered in my mental greeting, when I saw them; they were a sickly-looking orange, and he looked afraid.

Esme recovered herself quickly. "Well, it doesn't matter," she said firmly. "The important thing is that you're here! Come inside and tell us everything you've been… up to." Her voice trailed off, and Edward flinched again as she looped her arm through his. He allowed it, though, and let her pull him toward the house. I couldn't resist, either; I had to touch him, to know that he was real. I laid my hand on his back, silently urging him along. When Esme unlocked the front door, he sucked in a breath and moved backwards, looking skittish again. I kept my hand firmly pressed against his back.

"Come on, son," I said quietly, rejoicing as I savored the words. His orange gaze jerked back to me when I spoke. He glanced back toward the yard again, and I began to panic. What if this was just a visit, and not a homecoming? _We have a lot to talk about, but for Esme's sake please join us, at least for a while._

He swallowed and turned, stepping over the threshold with a sad smile. He flipped on the lights, his eyes moving immediately to his piano. His face took on a starved, hopeful look as his fingers twitched towards it.

Esme saw her chance. "Would you, Edward, for me? I tuned it myself earlier this year." When he hesitated, she gave him a little push. "Just one song, my song?" she pleaded.

Edward gave in, and sat down to the piano, running his fingers gently over the keys. And as soon as the first note sounded, I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to crush him in my arms. The living room was filled with his music, and the house with his scent. I laid one hand on his shoulder, and one on Esme's, and it was all I could do not to weep as I thanked God, over and over, for bringing our son home. The details didn't matter right now.

The song ended too soon, and then he stood, looking uncertain again. I was uncertain as well; what could I say to put him at ease? But Esme knew best, as usual.

"As beautiful as ever," she told him, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, I've missed your music! I've missed _you_." Before he could pull away, she darted in and kissed him on the cheek. Instead of flinching this time, he pulled her into a crushing hug, taking deep gulps of her scent.

"I've missed you too, Mom," he whispered, his face still buried in her hair. I ached to hold him, as well, but I didn't know how he would take it. The color of his eyes told me that he had, at least temporarily, been hunting animals. But I didn't know anything, beyond that. He was certainly not at peace; that much was sure. As happy as I was, I felt like I was waiting for the hammer to fall.

Sure enough, as he pulled away from Esme, his face was painfully devoid of expression. Esme's smile began to fade as whatever mental conversation they were having took a turn for the worse. He swallowed as he held her gaze, and pain filled his eyes suddenly. I had to do something!

"Esme?" I said quickly. They both broke their concentration and looked at me. "We need to leave in about an hour," I continued. "Why don't you get the cookies started… I'd like to show Edward something."

She frowned at me, surely wondering why I was bothering to go ahead with our plans. But she glanced back at Edward again, telling him something silently before she turned to go to the kitchen. We both watched her as she left, and Edward turned to me with a ghost of his old smirk on his face.

"_Cookies_?" he asked.

I nodded, still looking proudly after her. "She's grown quite a bit since you left. She's begun volunteering at the hospital, and forming friendships with some of the nurses and long-term patients. Last year she dusted off her cookbook, and she's been at it ever since. Tonight the children's ward is having a bake sale to raise money for new beds."

Edward's smirk faded as I spoke, and he looked toward the kitchen, obviously impressed.

"Walk with me, son," I said as I motioned toward the patio door. I still didn't know what to say to him, or even what to think. All I knew was that I had to keep him here, and help him. As we walked, I mentally reviewed the past half hour, trying to show him how relieved I was to have him here. We sat together on the bench at the back of the yard, and Edward waited in silence for me to speak. He looked so _lost_.

"Edward, how long have you been back on the animal diet?" I asked hopefully. He stopped breathing, and I finally saw the guilt I had been looking for.

"You knew?" he whispered. He seemed to shrink in on himself, and he was once again the seventeen-year-old I had brought into this life. He needed a father to guide him, to anchor him; he always would. Pretending that he hadn't spent the past four years on the wrong path wasn't going to help either of us. I looked away, unable to watch as the time for his confession neared. I hated to see him cowed like this, but I had to be sure of what his intentions were. If my dream were to come true- our family restored- I needed to know where he stood. _I ask again, how long?_

"Two months," he answered timidly.

"Humans, the rest of the time?"

"Yes."

I had thought I was prepared for this moment, the moment of his confession. I thought I had gotten used to the idea of what he had chosen to do. But as image after image flashed before my eyes, my heart broke anew, not only for his victims, but for my son, and for the eternal scars that he had inflicted on himself. How deeply had he descended? I closed my eyes in anguish as the images became even darker: Edward breaking windows, stealing into children's bedrooms at night.

"No!" he interrupted. "Never. Only criminals, the worst ones, and only when I was sure."

I suddenly felt very old, and very tired. Was he still trying to justify his actions? Was he not truly repentant, not even now? "They were _people_, Edward."

"Carlisle, I-"

"Look over there, son." I nodded over toward the brightly illuminated kitchen, where we could see Esme going about her business, looking for all the world like a human housewife. Couldn't he see that this was the best way to live? Couldn't he see that this was what he had left behind, what was waiting for him?

"Edward, when you left… she was heartbroken. She couldn't understand why you would leave just when our coven was truly becoming a family_." __I couldn't understand._" I want you to stay. Even if you decide not to, you will always be my son. But if you're going to be a part of this family again, I need to know you are serious about your intentions. I cannot allow you to stay, and to continue living like you have. It will tear us apart. All of us," I added, nodding significantly toward Esme again. I took a deep breath. "Edward, are you truly ready to commit to this lifestyle again?"

He swallowed, but he didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir."

I wanted to jump up and shout for joy! But I still had to know. "And… will you stay?" I asked, looking away and holding my breath as I waited.

Silence.

I didn't dare look at him; I was too afraid of what I would find. _We can help you. Please say yes, son… at least try._

More silence, and my heart began to sink. _Please…_

"Carlisle, do you _want_ me back?" I jerked my head back toward him, to find him staring at me angrily. What kind of a question was that?

"You know I do."

"I can't see why you would," he said disgustedly, lurching to his feet. I jumped up beside him, but I didn't think he even saw me; he was frozen like a statue as he stared through the kitchen window, at his mother. His fists clenched tighter and tighter as his face changed.

I had seen that look once before… right before he left. His right foot inched toward the woods, and I began to panic again. I threw memory after memory at him- every time I could think of that might remind him how much it meant to be a family. Every time I could remember him being happy, or at least content. If only I could make him remember!

It worked. As I showed him the memories faster and faster, his hands clenched even tighter, but his resolve seemed to waver, just slightly. I finally reached out and touched his shoulder, bringing him back to the present.

"How could I want anything else? Edward, our family isn't complete without you. I can't condone what you did, but I've already forgiven you, and I know she will as well. Our love for you isn't conditional on your behavior! You will always be our son, no matter where you are. But won't you stay?"

I couldn't hold back any longer. I grabbed him and pulled him close, my hands trembling with love and fear as I held my son, my best friend, my Edward. _I love you, son… how can I make you understand that?_

I felt him relax under my grip, and his hands slowly moved up to return my embrace. Another moment, and I felt him nod against me. I smiled as my heart finally exploded in pure joy. He was staying!

"I'm sorry," he whispered into my shoulder. "After everything you taught me…"

"Ssh, Edward, sshhh…" I held him even more tightly, rubbing his head like I would a child. Suddenly, he pulled away from me.

"Esme doesn't know," he said flatly.

"No. I suspected from the beginning what you had chosen to do, but she would never believe it. I'll let you tell her, when you're ready." _She'll forgive you._

He nodded, looking back to the house again. He sighed, but squared his shoulders and began to walk in; he wanted to get it over with. And I had a feeling this was something that he needed to do on his own. I headed into the woods, sending him my mental assurance of his privacy. I ran until I was well out of his range, and then I fell to my knees.

"Thank you, God," I cried over and over. "My family is whole again. My son, my son is home!"


	9. 1931: Complete (2 of 2)

**This one's for Zveka :)**

* * *

**Carlisle POV**

I gave them about an hour, and then eagerly returned to the house, to my _family_. I savored the word as I ran. Our little family might not be perfect, but at least we were complete again. The next few months would be difficult. Edward was a young man who felt things very deeply, and who was very, very hard on himself. And two months really wasn't that long; he still had a long road ahead of him, just in terms of his diet.

And judging from our conversation earlier, he wasn't fully repentant yet. Did he still believe in all those lies he had convinced himself of before he had left? What should my role be, as he processed what he had done over the past four years? Did I need to repeat the things I had taught him as a newborn? Surely he wasn't capable of forgetting, though. Or should I keep my peace, allowing him to come to his own conclusions? It was my silence, in part, that had led to this mess. How could I assure him of my forgiveness, while still making it clear that what he had done was murder, and was completely unacceptable? But what if I said too much, and drove him away again? I knew all too well what it was like to live under the shadow of a father whose righteousness meant more to him than his own son. I had to be careful.

But as I neared the house, every plan, every thought fell away as I saw Edward and Esme in the living room: she was seated on the couch, and he was on the floor, crying with his face in her lap. I tore open the patio door, running to them and kneeling as I wrapped my arm around Edward's trembling shoulders. He just wept harder then, and curled up against me in his anguish.

"What happened?" I asked Esme over his head.

"I don't know," she said fearfully, combing her hand through his tangled, dirty hair. "All I did was tell him about my accident, and that we all make mistakes. And then he told me that he had never made a mistake, that he had killed humans on purpose, and then he lost it. I told him over and over that I forgive him, but I don't think he can hear me."

This was it, then: his repentance had already come. It seemed that although he had already felt sorry for hurting us, it wasn't until now that he truly realized what he had actually _done_. I was glad that this moment was coming so soon, and that I didn't need to help bring it about. But my heart ached to see him suffering so, and I wished that he could cry real tears, just so I could wipe them away. In this moment, Edward was not a man, or even an adolescent; he was my little boy, and a part of me was grateful for the chance to hold him in this tender way. I had never done so before, and I hoped I would never have reason to again. I pulled him even closer, and his sobs shook both of us, until they became my own.

As I held him, he began to whisper names. Charles. Mickey. Mario... They were all men's names, and I stopped counting after the first hundred: it seemed he was confessing each murder separately. Occasionally, instead of a name, he described the man, or described where he had met him. He spoke the names faster and faster, his breath catching in gasping sobs every time he ran out of air. The last name he uttered was Jimmy, and if it were possible, he looked even more distressed after that. He began to weep in earnest again, digging his face harder into my chest. I wept with him again after that, and so did Esme. It went on for hours. We tried to comfort him a few times, but it always seemed to make him feel worse. All we could do was hold him, and grieve with him.

When the sun rose, and the first rays burst into the living room, he stopped suddenly. He pulled away from me and sat up, looking dully first at Esme, and then at me. If he were human, his eyes would be red and swollen and his voice hoarse. But he spoke naturally, as though continuing a conversation. He was concerned about the _fundraiser_, of all things. I explained our situation here in Montana, and when I foolishly let him see my memory of Harry's suspicions, his eyes narrowed.

"Where does he live?" he asked coldly. But before I could wonder what his intentions were, he laughed. "No, Esme. I merely intend to listen, and make sure there's no real threat."

The sound of his laugh was healing to all of us, and we quickly made our plans: we would move to Rochester, New York, this very weekend. Esme and I decided to go back to the hospital immediately. I would spend the day driving around, giving my week's notice at the various hospitals and offices that I was on call for. Esme would spend her day with the children, no doubt bidding them a bittersweet farewell. But as she headed for the front door, she was practically skipping.

I met Edward's amused smile with my own. _This is the happiest she's been in years._ His smile faded, but he nodded his understanding.

"You'll be all right here?" I asked as I paused at the front door.

He nodded again. "There are some things I need to do… beginning with a very long shower." I laughed along with him, though it pained me to think what his living conditions had been while he had been away. I put it from my mind and headed out the door.

.

.

.

I was so happy that _I _was practically skipping as I made my rounds. I knew that I had better come up with an exciting reason for my departure, to explain both the suddenness and my obvious change in mood. I hadn't been depressed, exactly, and while there had been many difficult moments, I wasn't a brooder like my son. I was a man of action, and I received heartfelt congratulations from my colleagues regarding my new teaching position at a medical school in New England; I was so excited, of course, that I conveniently forgot to tell anyone exactly where I was heading.

In reality, of course, I would be starting over as a young doctor, fresh out of my residencies. It was the same every time: new hospital for me, new school for Edward. But things would be different this time. For one thing, I thought that sending Edward back to high school was not the wisest choice. He had been painfully bored here, and that had no doubt contributed to his downfall in '27. I would see if he would like to consider going to a college this time, perhaps the University of Rochester. It was rather amusing, considering that he had never actually graduated high school, for all his attempts.

It wasn't that I wanted to reward his behavior in any way. This was therapeutic; he needed new challenges, and a new type of environment. And if I had learned anything from his journals, it was that I needed to treat him as more of an adult. But he would have to earn that last privilege, starting now. I really had no idea yet if he had matured in any way during his time away. I _was_ proud of his return, and even more proud of his repentance; both of these decisions bespoke his maturity. But in some ways, he would always be an adolescent, and to ignore that fact would be equally as destructive. One thing was certain, though: Edward and I needed to communicate more. I knew this was easier said than done, because he _was_ seventeen. He would always feel that pull toward independence, wrestling against his grudging need for our guidance and comfort. And it would be difficult for me, because of the way things had been between my own father and me. It didn't help that I had been alone for so long. I would try, though, starting with the college issue. Another touchy subject would be his reintegration into human society. I didn't know if his last kill had been an accident or not, but he would need to be careful for a while. Would he accept my help this time?

.

.

.

When Esme and I returned home, I was about to burst with all the things I had planned to say. And so when I headed up the stairs, and saw Edward sitting in his room, writing in his _journal_, I feared the worst. Had nothing changed?

"No, that's not it at all," he murmured, motioning me into the room. I relaxed as I took in his appearance: he was cleaned up, with fresh clothes and shoes, and his hair was tamed. Esme noticed as well, and she entered the room as well, running her fingers through his hair. He turned in his chair and laid his hand over hers, still on his head.

"About that," he said to her with a grin. "I thought that you might like to give me a haircut tonight. You know, new life, new look." I personally hated the idea; I had always rather envied my son his wild, "energetic" hairstyle. But this was between mother and son; and if changing his appearance would help him with his resolutions, I was all for that.

But she shook her head, letting her fingers trail through his hair again as she touched his forehead. "This is the face I waited to see for four years," she said tenderly. "Don't ask me to change it now."

He watched her thoughts for a moment, and then nodded before turning to me. "I'll explain in a few days, before we leave," he told me, tapping the journal. "This is just something I need to do, before we move on… together."

"All right, son," I said in relief. As long as I had his promise, I would let him have this. Esme and I walked out, and I began pulling the door shut behind me.

"No, leave it open," he murmured. "I think we've had enough of that."

.

.

.

Esme and I spent the rest of the week getting the house ready, and I had arranged for the movers to come Saturday afternoon, after we had left. A piano mover would also be coming tomorrow; we were moving cross-country, and Edward had agreed to donate his piano to a local school. It might have been more convenient for the movers to come earlier, so that we could supervise them, but it wasn't worth the risk. Despite my resolution to talk with Edward more, we had barely spoken to each other all week. But it wasn't anything like before: even though he was journaling furiously, his door was always open. He took frequent breaks to play the piano, and Esme and I often stood behind him as we had done on Sunday night. At any rate, we hadn't discussed how sensitized he was to humans right now; so it was better to be safe than sorry, with the movers.

I ended up being called in on Friday to cover for another physician who had gotten sick. Esme went with me one last time, and as we returned home the next morning, I recalled Edward's promise to explain himself before we left, and we were leaving tomorrow morning. And we really did need to discuss his sensitivity to humans, before we left. If things were as bad as I suspected, we would need to be careful in our travels.

Perhaps I should see if he'd be interested in a little father-son hunt now; his eyes were already much darker than they had been two days ago. He had been so quiet this week; maybe if we were out in the woods alone together, it would be easier for both of us.

We walked in the front door to find him leaning casually against the banister, a satchel slung over his shoulder. "What are you waiting for?" he teased. "Our luncheon reservation is for eleven."

_I had forgotten how handy your gift is when I'm trying to plan something. _I turned to Esme, my heart light. "If it's all right with you, dear, I think I'll take Edward on a hunt while you finish packing up."

She nodded, and pulled my shoulder down to kiss me goodbye. It warmed my heart to see her so happy again. I tossed my lab coat, stethoscope and bag into the coat closet, and Edward and I took off at a run. He ran at my pace, though he took a few extra loops around me, grinning mischievously. He looked so relaxed, and I was soon laughing along with him as we ran.

.

.

.

After we had fed, I finally decided it was time. Edward never carried anything when he hunted, and so I knew the satchel carried something of meaning.

"Don't tell me you brought your own silverware," I said lightly, nodding toward the satchel.

"No, it's a gift for you. I thought it was a good time, since we were alone." His face was instantly serious again, and I nodded, inviting him to join me up on the boulder under which we had buried our kills. He sat down and pulled five leather volumes out of the bag. One was dirty, and the other four were crisp and new.

_You don't have to do this_, I protested.

"Yes, I do," he said softly. "I need you to understand… I need you to know what happened. What I did, and how I got there. Carlisle, I'm grateful that you and Esme have accepted me back. But before I move on with you, we need to be fully honest with each other. I do covet your forgiveness, but until you know everything… well, I just want you to know everything."

Well, this was unexpected. I nodded and picked up the dirty one- 1927, no doubt. I read as quickly as possible, finding what I had expected to find- that Edward's blood scent addiction had indeed driven him to leave us. When I saw that Charles Evenson had been his first victim, I forced myself to read even faster; this was no time to celebrate the fact that Esme and I had benefitted from our son's downfall. I read faster and faster, in an effort to keep myself from feeling. I knew that if I slowed down or stopped, I would be crushed by both sorrow and yes, disappointment in my son. He was quite thorough in his reports- both in terms of the murders, but also in places he had visited, things he had done.

It looked like his time away had been one effort after another to keep his mind filed with noise, so that he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt that was hounding him the entire time. I read through 1928, and then the others, as quickly and as numbly as I could. I was relieved, in the end, to see that Edward had arrived at the same conclusion that I had, about the addiction; at least I didn't need to go through that with him. The final page contained a particularly raw sample of his usual self-flagellation; knowing my son as I did, I supposed I shouldn't have expected anything else. At least he had ended today's entry on a lighter note: his relief at our forgiveness and his anticipation of our journey east.

As soon as I closed the volume, the grief caught up with me. Nearly a thousand men had died at Edward's hand. I was, of course, relieved at Edward's choice to kill humanely, and at his choice to kill only male criminals. But that didn't make any of this right, and it did nothing to quell the shame that I felt. Edward was no monster, but what he had done was indeed monstrous; and as his creator, I had some responsibility in that. I also felt ashamed of my failure to _prevent_ this disaster. But in all fairness, I had tried; not enough, but I had tried. I had given Edward every chance to confide in me, and he hadn't done it. And look where it had gotten him! I wanted to gather my son in my arms, and weep with him again. But that time was past.

"If you had come to me," I began in a quavering voice, "if you had only come to me, I would have listened. We could have figured this out together."

He just swallowed, tracing invisible lines in the rock with his finger.

"It seems you have come full circle in your conclusions," I continued in a stronger voice, "and that you are determined to avoid returning to that life forever. Am I right?"

"Yes. It will never happen again," he answered easily, and I clenched my teeth in exasperation at this familiar display. Just like that, he had swung from self-hatred to arrogance, without warning. How he managed to do this, I had never been able to understand.

"How can you know that?!" I demanded. He flinched, and I forced my voice back into gentleness. But I couldn't back down here; he needed to understand this. "Forgive me. I see that you realize how wrong it was, and I understand the safeguards you intend to keep in place. What I mean is, how do I know that the next time you find life challenging, you won't just do this again? Retreat into yourself, refusing all help and wallowing in your introspection until the whole world is skewed in your eyes. That is _not_ the way to deal with hardship, Edward." _How many have paid for your stubbornness? __With their lives?_

He swallowed again, and lowered his eyes in shame. "You're right," he admitted. "Instead of coming to you and Esme with my doubts, I took everything upon myself, and it crushed me. I promise you that I will not make that mistake again, either. You and Esme were right when you said I would never be emotionally mature. I understand now that I need your guidance in my life. I mean, if you still want me, now that you've-"

I smiled sadly; of course he had taken my rebuke too far. And I supposed it was time for my own confession. "You had my forgiveness before you ever decided to return to us, Edward. I knew what you were up to not long after you left. I confess that I did read your other journals, and your final entries from 1926 were enough to show me where you were headed. No, our love for you is unchanged. I can only repent for my part in your… failures." I winced as that last word escaped my lips. I didn't want to hurt him anymore, but this was my duty as his father. He _had_ to understand where I stood on this.

"_Your_ part?" he asked incredulously.

"I should have insisted that you talk to me. If I had been attentive enough, I would have seen earlier how unhappy you were. In the end, I recognized that you were losing control over your thirst, but I was afraid if I pushed too hard, that you would shut me out completely. I told myself that you were behaving as a normal adolescent, but I see now that it was more than that."

"I'm not so sure," he said disgustedly. "Looking back, I am ashamed at my own petulance. I was more – no, I _am_ more like my human peers than I care to admit. The worst part was that I had no excuse; I knew from your thoughts that you only wanted to help. I suppose that's why I stayed as long as I did."

I could understand that. And I understood, now more than ever, that we would always be wrangling with his adolescence; it was never going to fully leave him, no matter how much he learned, no matter how much he grew. He would always struggle with his identity as both a boy and a man. He would always be impulsive, and, like most young men his age, arrogant at times. This last would at least be tempered by his sensitivity and by his seriousness; I supposed that was a blessing, though Edward himself would always be the one to suffer from the struggle between these qualities. And as much as I hated to think it in front of him, Edward's behavior had really just been the vampire version of the typical adolescent rebellion.

He sighed when he heard this. "It's a good thing I'll be in high school forever," he said ruefully.

I smiled; it was the perfect opening for the happier end of this conversation. "Well, that's another thing I regret, actually. I believe that your boredom was one of the catalysts for your rebellion. How would you feel about attending university when we reach New York?"

He sat up straighter, and as a huge grin broke across his face, I felt cleansed; I hadn't seen that smile in _years_. "You mean it?" he asked eagerly.

I nodded. "Edward, in some ways you really will be seventeen forever. Neither of us can deny that fact. But you have already showed remarkable maturity in your choice to return to the animal diet, and in your willingness to join our family again." He opened his mouth in protest, but I silenced him with a hand in the air between us. "I know. In some ways you were driven to return, and to repent; and we will never know how altruistic you would be without your mental abilities. Perhaps they are God's way of keeping you honest."

I waited for the smirk and the beginning of our old debate, but it didn't come. Interesting.

"I'd love to try going to college, if you truly think I'm ready."

"I do. Let's wait until the fall semester, though. By then you should have a good level of control again." He nodded, and jumped down off the rock, putting the journals away. I hoped I would never have the opportunity- or the need- to read them again. And I was even more thankful, now that the matter was resolved, that I hadn't shown them to Esme. I knew that earlier this week, Edward had briefly whispered an account of his actions to her, but I knew that both of them wanted that to be the end of it.

_Let's keep the journals between us. __You know Esme would forgive you anyway, and there's no need to hurt her further._

He nodded, looking down again. "Carlisle, was it… was it very hard for her?"

I tried not to let him see, but I was out of practice. My mind instantly returned to the hundreds of times I had found Esme sitting in Edward's room, weeping for her lost son. I clamped my mind against the flow of memories, but by the pain in Edward's eyes, I knew I was too late.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I never meant to hurt her like that."

I just stared at him. Did he truly think Esme was the only one who loved him? That _I _ hadn't been devastated when he had left so abruptly? _You hurt us both, son._

He looked up in shame again, and so I repeated to him, over and over, that I loved him, that Esme was happy again. That everything was all right. It didn't seem to help, though. I would leave the rest of our discussion for another time.

"I think all this cogitation has given me an appetite," I announced. "Why don't we see if we can't find something better than elk? It's our final hunt in Montana, after all. Let's make it memorable." I gave him a wink and took off running. As he blew past me, I smiled to hear his playful growl. The worst was over, it seemed.

.

.

.

We were relieved to each find a grizzly; it might be our last taste of that particular meal for a long time. We were taking our time, strolling back to the house as we discussed the plans for our departure tomorrow. In his attempts to finish the journaling by this morning, Edward hadn't done much of his own packing yet.

"I thought I'd put the globe in with the towels," he was saying. "Do you want me to bring-"

I caught the scent a split second after he did: too late. He was already deep in a hunting crouch, a look of anguish and confusion on his face. There was no time to think; I just slammed right into him, knocking him off the path and into the trees. As we fell together, he was already fighting me, though his eyes were pleading for help.

"Stop, Edward!" I yelled, trying will all my might to hold him down. And for just an instant, I thought he was beginning to relax. But I watched as his eyes darkened and his teeth clenched against the temptation; it was as if the grizzly had never happened. I got my knee into his back and tried to push his face down fully into the dirt; I didn't have a hand free to cover his mouth and nose, but if I could cut off his air supply with the ground, he would be able to fight it. But I simply wasn't strong enough. As his eyes turned fully to black, his anguish twisted into feral rage and he roared his defeat, twisting his body into a backwards twist, sending me flying off.

I hit the ground running, but he was already too far, and there was no way I could catch him. Still, I ran with all my might; I _knew_ he didn't want to do this. After all his efforts the past two months, too! And Esme was there- was she all right? What was a human doing at our house, anyway? There was no mistaking the direction that Edward was running in. I could barely see him anymore.

It was going to happen. Right in front of Esme! Why?! Why did this have to happen?!

I barely heard his plea, then, coming from so far in front of me: "Stop me!"

But what could I do? I kept running, racing through options. Edward knew to hold his breath, but he had already lost control over that instinct. But if he could still speak, maybe he could…

"My car!" I yelled in inspiration. "Get in my car!" Could he even hear me, or was he already feeding? After what seemed an eternity, I heard the door of my car slam shut, and I veered off toward the driveway, gasping in relief to see Edward sitting in the passenger seat, his head in his hands. I jerked open the driver's side door and slammed it behind me, while my right hand grabbed the keys from their hiding place. I jammed them in the ignition and threw the car in reverse, shoving the pedal to the floor. As we hit the highway, I finally looked over to Edward, whose eyes were still black as he gulped in the clean air inside the car. He finally let go of his hair, gripping the dashboard so hard that his fingers began to dig into the metal. He nodded over and over.

The car began to shake, and I shifted down to give the engine a break. _It's over now,_ I told him. _What HAPPENED back there?_

He dug his fingers deeper into the metal, and sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. "The piano mover decided to come a day early. He dropped one end of it, and one of the feet scraped his leg on the way down."

"Is Esme all right?"

"Yes. He's almost got the bleeding stopped now." He took another deep breath, and forced his jaw to relax. But as the rage of his thirst cooled, his eyes began to dart back and forth in panic, and his all-too-familiar look of self-disgust appeared. Hadn't we just talked about this?

"Edward…" I said with a warning tone, "you're doing it again. Talk to me."

"I don't understand. When I hunted before – humans, I mean – it was never like that. I never lost control, not once."

I shrugged. "I think that it's to be expected, at least for a while. You're like a newborn right now. Only this time you know what it's like to indulge, and you've denied your appetite for two months now. Your last taste of human blood was recent enough that your instincts react naturally to the aroma, and it was long ago enough that your body feels starved for it."

"Well, that… makes sense," he admitted.

"Anyway, that's why I scheduled the movers to come tomorrow, after we left. I'm sorry, son- I should have scouted ahead before you got so close to home." _I'm so proud of you, though. __I can't imagine how difficult it was to stop._

He nodded his thanks, finally letting go of the dashboard.

"We'll get through this," I assured him. "It'll take some work and some care, but I still believe you'll be ready to attend university this fall."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't know about that."

"Well, let's just take it one day at a time." _And anytime you are struggling, you WILL come to me._

"Agreed."

We continued to drive around for a half hour, each lost in our own thoughts. After a few minutes, Edward rolled down the window and leaned out slightly, the sun catching his beautiful face with a glittering brilliance. He closed his eyes, and for the first time this week, he truly looked like he was at peace.

I was at peace, as well. It was time to put Montana- and the wretchedness of the past four years- behind us. It was time to make a new beginning. And now our little family could make it together, because we were complete again.

I was complete.

* * *

**So... I will keep my promise, back to 1950. I hope you have enjoyed these Carlisle outtakes; I've been waiting to write them for a while. I've really fallen in love with him throughout the Series (and also through LisaLovesCurry's _Eternity_**** and _Stregoni Benifici_), and so it's nice to finally see his side of things, especially in these tough moments.**


	10. 1950: Arrival (1 of 2)

**Here it is! Now, part 2 of 2 (which contains the arrival itself) will be posted simultaneously with the arrival chapter in 1950, so that they can be read all at once.**

****NOTE** This outtake contains a big spoiler for the next two chapters of 1950. But the details are left vague, and unless you're religiously anti-spoiler, I do recommend reading this now. It'll be more exciting this way.**

**Rachel asked to see some of Alice and Jasper's journey to the Cullens, and dkjkaden asked for an outtake with some early Alice/Jasper moments, so both are included here, the latter in flashback form. Enjoy!**

**Jasper POV**

We were lying in a meadow together, sparkling in the in full sunlight. I was comfortably propped up against a sizeable rock, with Alice tucked under my right arm as she laid against me, her eyes closed. I was running my fingers through her hair while I drifted along with the nameless song she was humming. Her voice matched her appearance and her personality perfectly; she was a delicate soprano, with an ethereal lightness to her tone that never failed to calm me. Her music swirled around us, borne on the gentle breeze of our contentment. I inhaled deeply, breathed in her scent as the deeper parts of my consciousness breathed in her love. I exhaled slowly, showering her with my own love and tenderness, and she smiled in response, snuggling more deeply into my chest as she continued her song. This was heaven.

It had been nearly a year and a half since my life had been turned upside down. I had only ducked into that diner in Philadelphia to get out of the rain. I was just going inside to stay dry while I waited for my prey to come out into the open. When I saw him coming, I was going to slide out of my seat, make the kill, and then suffer the emotional consequences as soon as I had fed. It was the same as it had always been, and it was never going to get any better. Kill, feel, wait, thirst, kill. I was going to continue the cycle until my disgust finally overcame my preservation instinct, and then I was going to escape the wretched existence that I had been doomed to. I had been hoping that it wouldn't take too much longer.

But I hadn't known what, and who, was waiting for me inside that diner. _Alice_. I whispered her name reverently as I remembered, and I felt her love tinge with worry as she shifted her position, gazing up at me. Her song stopped. "Remembering again?" she teased.

"The day we met," I said softly, and I sighed in wonder as her happiness lit up the whole meadow. She rolled back to where she had been lying and picked up her song again.

It was three weeks after we had met, that she had sung for me for the first time. We hadn't even spoken for the first two days; we had just walked right through the rain out of Philadelphia and up into the mountains. It hadn't occurred to either of us to have any sort of ceremony, or even conversation; we had just gone. When we came to our senses two days later, I suddenly burst out laughing, and told her that my name was Jasper.

"I know," she giggled.

Her odd response naturally led to a lot of questions on my part, and a lot of very confusing information on her part. She spent the better part of the next day telling me about her past, _my_ past, her visions, the Cullens, the animal diet, and our destiny, which apparently included this bizarre "family" that she had never even met. Needless to say, I was overwhelmed.

For one thing, I had just gone _six_ days without feeding. This was beyond impossible, and as my throat burst into flames at the realization, I felt rather awkward. It was obvious that Alice expected me to try this animal diet of hers, but for right now, I needed to feed, _immediately_, and I told her so.

"Of course you do," she said smoothly. "I'll help."

Help?

She led me deeper into the mountains, bringing me toward a scent that I probably never would have even noticed: the earthy scent of a coyote. "Go ahead," she urged, shoving me forward with a secretive smile. "And don't forget to kill it first; it's cleaner that way."

I just looked suspiciously at the coyote, inhaling again and wrinkling my nose at the thought of tasting its blood. What a peculiar idea! But I wanted to humor her, and so I ran up to the animal, grabbing it by its neck and giving it a death blow before biting.

_Ugh!_It was even worse than I had imagined. The taste brought up a vague memory of my human grandmother shaking her finger at me, telling me to eat my spinach. But Alice wasn't my grandmother, and from that first moment in the diner, my entire existence had belonged to her. I would do anything she asked, and so I drank until there was nothing left. I felt absolutely nothing during the experience, other than Alice's pride and my own revulsion at the taste and the fur. I finally dropped the dried-up coyote in disgust, and instinctively tensed myself against the emotional deluge that always came after feeding.

Nothing.

Still nothing. Just love and pride, coming from less than a foot away.

I creaked my eyes open, to find Alice standing in front of me. "That's better, isn't it?" she whispered. She reached up and dusted the fur off of my mouth, and I nodded dumbly. It was _infinitely_ better. She let out a gasp as I grabbed her up in my arms, letting her feel the full force of my love and gratitude. This was a whole new world, and it was all because of her. She had set me free!

.

.

.

The weeks that followed hadn't been all sunshine and roses. I had still been afraid of being recognized by other vampires, even more so now that I had begun to value my life again, along with the life of my mate. I insisted that we withdraw even deeper into the wilderness, and she was willing; anything to get me farther away from the humans was good, she said. And by the second week of the new diet, I had begun having what Alice called withdrawal symptoms. I was plagued by headaches, emotional hallucinations, and tremors that were far worse than any I had dealt with before.

I thought, a few times, about giving up on the new diet, for Alice's sake. I hated the fact that the beginning of our life together was being ruined by my constant fantasizing about human blood, and by the withdrawal itself. I didn't want to go back to that life, but at least I would be able to offer Alice more of my attention. But every time I considered it, she knew. Her fear and disappointment made me feel sick, and I would resolve anew to offer her this gift that she wanted. My venom flowed constantly, and my throat was one huge flame that refused to go out. We hunted as often as my stomach could bear it, and _still_, the symptoms grew worse- especially the tremors. It got so bad by the third week that Alice just held me on the ground as I shook, and began to sing.

I was startled by the sound; I hadn't heard singing since I had been human, and even those memories had the distant, cloudy feel of childhood. My mother had died when I was small, and her deep, lilting lullabies had been the only thing I remembered about her, even as a human. So when Alice's high-pitched fairy voice suddenly pierced the flames inside my head, the tremors jerked to a stop. She sang for hours, and I held onto the sound like a lifeline, even as the tremors eventually returned. When she stopped abruptly, I spoke for the first time in days, my voice hoarse with venom.

"When is it going to get better?"

She didn't answer right away, but her sorrow said enough. She knew the answer, obviously, and it was bad.

"Just t-tell me," I demanded, my words shivering as another tremor rocked through me.

"Two months," she said sadly. "Do you want me to sing again?"

I nodded, and she began again. I laid my head back down on her lap, trying to imagine a tiny Alice-fairy dancing to her song, instead of the blood-drenched fantasies that my cravings insisted on. But I felt a spike of panic a few minutes later, and she let go of me. She stood up, backing away and keeping her eyes on the ground. She wasn't singing anymore, and her panic was quickly turning to sorrow.

"Alice, what-"

I smelled it then: the most wonderful, soothing scent in the world. I leapt up snarling, and the trees began to blur past me. The next thing I knew, I was rocketing through the heavens as I fed, and when I opened my eyes there was a dead man in my arms. Alice was standing a few feet away, saturated with pity as the man's dying emotions flooded through me. The two together were just too much, and I bowed my face to the ground, weeping hysterically as I begged her forgiveness.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, when I came to. I opened my eyes to find her arms wrapped around me, and her love quickly soothing the emotional pain away. The dead man still lay on the ground beside us, cold now.

Sorry?

"You knew," I said slowly, the realization dawning over me like a wave of nausea. "You knew this was going to happen. Why didn't you stop me?"

"I only knew for a few seconds," she said. "And it was better this way. Trust me."

I demanded to know how killing a human was _better_ than anything, but she had refused to tell me that day. We headed North after that, burying ourselves deep inside the emptiness of the Arctic Circle. Once the worst of the withdrawal symptoms were past, she finally told me the truth about that day.

"You would have attacked me, if I had tried to stop you," she admitted. "You would have torn my legs off. I would have been fine, but… it would have been worse, for you. And you would have killed him anyway."

"I would never have hurt you," I protested. "Never." Didn't she understand that yet?

"Yes, you would. I saw it."

I had no answer to that. And she was right; killing a human was much better than hurting her. I just hated the fact that she had actually seen me doing _both_.

There had been seven other accidents, since then. Once I was through the worst of the withdrawal, we began travelling to find better cover and better game, but that also meant more humans. And all seven times were the same: Alice saw it happening too late, and saw that trying to stop me would make things worse. So she just watched me kill, helped me through the aftershocks, and then she helped me clean up. She never once spoke her disappointment, and I could tell that she always tried not to even feel it. I loved her for that.

I also loved her for her visions- not only because they had brought us together, but because they had helped me avoid a grand total of three hundred and fifteen accidents, to date. So seven really was a pretty good casualty rate, in my new war against the deliciousness of humanity. I was fighting this new war for several good causes: for my own happiness, for Alice's happiness, for the human lives that we were saving, for our future. I was even doing it for the Cullens, and I cared even less about them than the _humans_. They were just characters in a story, for me; but I could see how Alice loved them, and I knew that they were my destiny, as well as hers. I would need to be worthy of them someday.

The last accident had been six weeks ago. I hadn't had any of the withdrawal symptoms this time, and my throat was on a low sizzle now, having fed on a black-tailed deer this morning. The burn never went away, and Alice couldn't tell me if it ever would. Her own throat was more comfortable, having only hunted humans consistently for a couple of years, if that. She hadn't suffered anything like I had, when she had stopped. She did admit that even after all these years, the animal diet still didn't satisfy like the real one. But she tried, for my sake, to feed more often than she really needed to, because her thirst always magnified my own. I never felt it reflect in my own throat, thankfully, but I had been around newborns enough to know what another vampire's thirst felt like, emotionally.

Maria had used me to do some experimentation with thirst, back in the 1880s. She wanted to determine what the optimal level of thirst was, for a newborn going into battle. The idea was that a soldier would be the most effective when the thirst was enough to enhance the battle fury, but not enough to distract from the mission. I was, naturally, the barometer in these experiments: we starved newborns of various ages, to determine what the emotional state was at each level of thirst. I suffered along with my subjects, of course; but when I begged Maria to take over the experiments herself, she had just reminded me that I was the only one who could conduct them effectively, and that my sacrifice was a small price to pay for victory. And so I had dutifully continued with my task, keeping myself well-fed even as I suffered the emotional escalation that the thirst in our subjects gave me.

It always began as a gnawing feeling of impatience, and depending on the vampire's age, it slowly or quickly grew into desire, and then anger, shifting eventually to rage. And we found, as expected, that madness was the eventual result of thirst, if it was denied too long. The emotional deterioration was always reversible, at least. My official report to Maria had been that our kind weren't lucky enough to go permanently insane. And even though I had suffered greatly throughout the experiments, I hadn't really minded it so much, after Maria had manipulated me into continuing them. My emotional habitat had been so negative anyway that anything that broke the monotony- and didn't involve more killing- was welcome.

But my emotional habitat now was just… _Alice_. We were never near anyone else, and so I never felt anyone else. I had reached the point in my new diet where I was able to drink animal blood without even making a face, though I still hated it. But we both knew that I was nowhere near ready to begin approaching human civilization. I had completely lost the ability to control myself now, but it didn't bother me much. I had no desire to see a human ever again. All I had now was Alice, Alice, Alice. Her tranquility, her love, her happiness, her desire for me, her amusement with the Cullens' antics… I just drank it in, day after day. Who needed anything else, when you had this?

Our plan, as of right now, was to wait a few more years. I knew that we would eventually be joining "our family", as she called them; she had seen it almost as soon as she had awoken to this life. But we both wanted to wait until my eyes were consistently golden- which they had never yet been- and until I had worked up at least some fledgling control around humans. It would be a while before the second condition could be met, and I was glad. I had Alice all to myself, and I liked it that way. I was more than happy to stretch out our time alone together. I would never go hunt a human on purpose now, but in all honesty, I had no intention of trying to relearn my control anytime soon: that would only bring us to the Cullens sooner. I was happy with the way things were, and if an occasional human paid the price for my contentment, then so be it. I took my due penance when it came, after each kill, but Alice had assured me that the worst of the withdrawal was over.

Today was a perfect example of why I didn't want to rush anything. We were miles from civilization, up somewhere in Northern Ontario. I wasn't afraid of running into any old enemies, this far North, and the likelihood of a human wandering up here, especially in April, was minimal. We were completely relaxed, and we had nothing whatsoever to do, except enjoy the sun and each other. If the Cullens were around, they would probably want to go do something human, or even _with_ the humans. From what I had gathered, Rosalie had a particular appetite for their society, though she never had any real human friends. It was most peculiar; perhaps there was something wrong with her.

But instead, we were alone, and content. Most of our days were like this now. I ran my fingers through Alice's hair again, sending her bursts of happiness in time with her song. I generally held Alice's emotions to be sacred and untouchable, but in times like this, I liked to enjoy a little harmless enhancement. She knew I was doing it, and she liked it. Of course, I affected her all the time, especially during times of intense emotion, good and bad. I tried my best to hold in the darker stuff, especially after my accidents, but I really wasn't very good at it. And instead of her sharing my burden, as she wanted to do, it only made it worse as our sorrow escalated itself, building off the emotional ricochet between us. Of course, the effect was the same with intensely positive emotions, so at least there was a balance. I emphasized the thought with an extra jolt of happiness, and she jerked in my arms, spinning around to kiss me.

"I wasn't sending you _that_," I laughed around her mouth. Oh, well…

But her kiss ended just as abruptly as it had begun. She gasped and pulled away, her eyes glazing over to stare at nothing. I released her, and waited for the vision to end. I knew from experience that trying to interrupt it would just agitate her further. And this one was important; these unplanned ones usually were. But instead of coming out of it, she jumped to her feet, her eyes still glazed over and darting back and forth in panic. The first wave of her distress finally hit me; a bad vision, then. I drew in a deep breath and held it, just in case it was about a nearby human, who had just changed his mind about which way to hike.

The visions continued. I could tell there was more than one, because as she paced around in a circle, she stumbled a few times, and gasped again occasionally, finally bringing her hand to her mouth and chewing on her thumbnail in concentration. Now I was feeling more distress, panic, and… despair?

_That_ wasn't good.

"Alice," I said impatiently. "Alice!"

She went another minute before turning to look at me. It was like she was miles away, even now that she had come back to the present. She opened her mouth, and then shut it, looking suddenly annoyed.

"_Jasper_," she said in a scolding voice.

"What?" Now what did I do? Or more accurately, what was I about to do? "Come on, darlin'," I sighed. "Just tell me what's going on."

She relaxed into my arms, her despair melting into worry. "It's Edward," she said.

"Again?" I growled. She just looked up at me with a look that said, _I told you so_.

"Sorry," I sighed. "It's just… can't he take care of himself?"

Alice spent an inordinate amount of time watching Edward's future, compared to the others. I knew it was because she had been watching him the longest, and because of his killing spree back in the late twenties. And his future tended to be the murkiest, and so I knew she checked on him a lot, but I couldn't help feeling… well, jealous, sometimes. He _was_ the unmated one. And it wasn't like Alice had ever _met_ another vampire besides me. I had a lot of romantic notions about the finality of our bond, but aside from Peter and Charlotte's example, I didn't actually know much about how this worked. There were the comforting examples in the Cullen family, but I hadn't actually met these people. I didn't know how much of Alice's interpretation of her visions was colored by her _own_ romantic notions.

"Apparently not," she huffed, her eyes glazing over again. "Of all the melodramatic, idiotic brothers in the world… oh!" Another vision hit her, a quick one this time, and when it was gone, she wasn't worried. She was _furious._

"I don't _believe_ this!" she fumed, beginning to pace again. "Jasper, we have to go. Now."

"Go where?" I asked in alarm.

"To the family! I'm sorry, Jasper, but I really need you to decide it right now. Please?"

I grabbed her hands, halting her pacing. "Stop it right there! You know I'm… you know we're nowhere near ready for that. We have our plan."

"I know, I _know_," she whined, breaking free to pace again. "It might make it worse, instead. Which is why I need us _both _to decide to do it, right now, so I can see. Please?"

"No." Not anytime soon, and certainly not for _Edward_. At least she had called him her brother again- that was comforting. And he had behaved himself in her visions, lately. But apparently, he had a history of throwing his own future for a loop, and for driving Alice crazy. And she had seen enough to guess that this instability was generally his own fault. I wasn't looking forward to being near his volatile emotions, not one bit.

"Jasper, he's our brother, and he needs us. He's going to leave again, and it's going to be worse this time!"

I clamped my mouth shut, to avoid saying the words _So what?_ That probably wasn't the right answer.

She heard it anyway, of course. "Look. I know you don't love them right now, but you will. I've seen it! Just trust me when I say we need to try this!"

"But-"

"Jasper, _please_!" She tackled me to the ground, sticking her pouting face right over mine. Her desperation, and worse- her trust, ate at me for a good five minutes, until I finally stood both of us up… and surrendered.

"Fine. We're going to find the Cullens, now," I decided aloud. And I meant it, too: she would know if I didn't. We were really going to do this. We would be at their house by this time next week.

She closed her eyes, standing frozen as she registered the changes in her visions. Finally, she heaved a sigh of relief and opened her eyes. "Thank you," she breathed, resting her forehead against my chest. "That's much better."

"Our going there now really is going to help?"

She chewed on her lip, glancing toward the Southeast. "Definitely."

"But my eyes aren't even ready!"

"I know," she said slowly. "I think that will help, actually. Edward will probably be worried enough to stay _because_ of that."

I snorted in disgust. "I would think meeting someone like me would send him off faster."

"No," she said firmly. "I know him. The only thing more important to him than his own drama is the safety of his family. Your eyes are _perfect_."

"I still don't understand. He was fine yesterday, wasn't he? What happened?"

She shook her head, annoyed. "I don't know. I try not to watch when he goes to play doctor. But something changed, something big."

"So, now what?" I asked.

She took a deep breath. "Now we run. We've got less than two days."


	11. 1950: Arrival (2 of 2)

**Here it is! This is Jasper's POV of the last leg of his and Alice's journey to the Cullens, the initial encounter with Carlisle, Esme and Rosalie, and ends when Edward and Emmett return home from hunting. But then you can go read Chapter 9 of 1950, which I am also posting right now. This covers Edward's POV of the same day, going much further into the afternoon. I hope you enjoy both sides of the story!**

**Jasper POV**

Alice had never bothered to try and divine the Cullen's address in New Hampshire, since we hadn't thought we would be joining them at this location. We were just lucky that we had been this close already- and still, we were running at Alice's top speed, only deviating from our course when Alice foresaw a human in our path. We stopped only once, so that I could feed. As we ran, she was watching Edward's every move, to try and figure out what had happened. Occasionally she would tell me what she had seen, though I was still confused. He had run out of some kind of medical room, which led to some kind of trouble with his human superiors, which led to some sort of fight at home, which led to his decision to leave, which if allowed to happen, would lead to a whole new series of disasters. It was like listening to one of those radio soap operas, except I had no idea what was going on.

Alice was also watching Carlisle and Esme intently for clues about our direction, and was finally rewarded when Carlisle picked up the next day's mail, flipping through the envelopes and showing her the address, which to Alice's surprise, was actually in Vermont. This still didn't tell us where to go, exactly, since neither of us had ever studied the geography of either state in detail. But it was enough for now.

When we crossed the border into New York, it was decided that I would stay hidden in the emptiness of the Moose River Plains, while Alice doubled back to the highway. She had seen where to find a Welcome Center, and would be able to get a detailed map of New England. I still had about ten dollars left from my last kill, and so I gave everything to her, telling her to buy whatever else might be needed.

While she was gone, I hunted again, trying to quiet my thirst as much as possible; we would be getting closer to human settlements soon. The journey had been difficult for me, but at least there hadn't been any accidents. We had been careful to come down on the western side of Ottawa, weaving in and out to avoid the small towns that dotted the land near the U.S. border.

I found a little creek to clean myself up in, washing my hair and combing through it as best I could. My clothes were in bad shape, though; the more I scrubbed them, the worse the tears and stains looked. I hadn't replaced my shirt in months, and our mad dash down here hadn't exactly helped. Neither of us had socks or shoes right now; they wore out so quickly, and we hadn't wanted to spend what little money we had on something so useless. At least I had been able to replace my pants with those worn by my prey six weeks ago. But now, as I looked at my reflection in the creek, I could only imagine what the Cullens were going to think of me. My hair was all right, thanks to Alice's constant attention, but my shirt was torn in three places, stained in several more places, and threadbare at my sides, where my arms brushed during running. I had pointed out that she was perfectly capable of stealing whatever we needed, but she liked to avoid that sort of thing. Besides, she hated leaving me alone for any reason; she had been nervous enough today as we had parted ways. I peeled my shirt off, plunging it into the water and scrubbing it between my hands.

The worst part, of course, was my eye color. Now that I had hunted just minutes ago, they were a bright, disturbing orange-red. My struggles with the diet were as plain as day. And combined with my ragged shirt and my scars, my appearance didn't exactly inspire trust, did it? And when they learned about my past, not to mention the offensive power of my gift… it was quite a lot to ask of them.

I scrubbed harder at my shirt, trying to at least get the worst blood stain out. The sun came out then, and my bare arms began to glitter, the scars jutting out rudely against the brilliance. I blew out a breath of frustration, turning my arm as I inspected it. I had been proud of my scars back in the day, even after I had grown sick of all the killing. And I was grateful for them now, since meeting Alice; we had been able to avoid contact with other vampires, but if we did, my battle-hardened scars would serve as an effective warning.

But now, I tried to imagine what the Cullens were going to think of them. Especially Carlisle, who supposedly abhorred violence of every kind. And Edward, who would be picking my brain even _before _ I walked in the door. There were just so many strikes against me, that I couldn't imagine them giving me the warm welcome that Alice was obviously anticipating. Her visions couldn't give her a read on their emotions- only I would be able to do that, and not until we arrived. And with so many decision-making minds in the mix, I didn't see how she could get any clear visions at all on their reaction later today. In her naiveté, she certainly had no idea how hard it must be for the Cullens to live in such proximity with each other. I imagined they had to work constantly at their fragile peace. After all, I loved Alice more than my own life, and yet we both knew how close I had come to attacking her during my accidents. And now we were going to suddenly introduce two new variables into a situation which was unnatural enough, to say nothing of the stressful events the Cullens had gone through in the past two days.

We would just have to do our best. I would, of course, be leaching out trust and peace as we approached the engagement. But I had no idea how perceptive Edward's gift would be in terms of the activity of my own gift, and how suspicious that might make him. I knew he considered himself the lookout for the family, and so I would have to be subtle with any emotional assistance I gave. I would have to be careful not to think things like _Good, now I've got them all trusting us._ I had been working half-heartedly on controlling my thoughts, lately, in preparation. But it had just been a game, since I hadn't thought that we would be going so soon.

Alice had assured me, over and over, of the many good qualities that "our family" possessed, but I was understandably wary. Alice had never met another vampire besides myself, and she had no memory of her human life; she really didn't know anything about how to interact with… well, _anybody_. And her visions were always in bits and pieces, and they were often just silent pictures. She watched her "home movies" as often as she could, but I knew she wasn't getting everything. She felt sure that she knew them intimately, and could trust them; but really, how much of that was wishful thinking on her part? Were these people really as peaceable as she thought? Would Carlisle really allow a battle-hardened vampire to tread on his territory, and come anywhere near his mate? And what if Alice was underestimating Edward's ability? What if he was actually capable of mind control? What if Emmett wasn't really the gentle giant that Alice seemed to think he was? I had fought a vampire his size only once, and I had been _lucky_ to lose just an arm.

It wasn't that I didn't trust her visions; I trusted them implicitly. But she didn't actually have very many visions yet of us being with the Cullens- just a few still shots, like the famous Family Portrait. I was also, frankly, repulsed and bewildered by their insistence on playing human. The younger ones went to school. And Carlisle was a _doctor_, of all things! Even if that was possible, which it didn't seem to be, what was the point of constantly patching up the humans? They were just going to die anyway. And why did they have to live in a house, and have so many useless possessions? Why did they have to live so close to the delicious humans?

I held up my shirt, scowling at it. I had scrubbed it so hard that it was even more threadbare than before. Maybe I could-

I sniffed the air, smiling as I breathed in the fragrance of Alice's approach. A moment later, I felt her excitement growing closer. I needed to remember that this was the day Alice had been looking forward to for most of her second life: our arrival and acceptance into the family. And while she had been worrying over the Cullens as we ran, she was also getting excited, almost giddy, as we drew closer. As usual, her emotions were exactly what I needed. I inhaled deeply, letting her happiness wash through me as she came into view, carrying a paper sack.

"I knew you would be all right!" she said gaily. "And I got you a present!"

I pulled her into my arms and kissed the top of her hair, waiting as she pulled a light blue bundle out of the sack. She shook it out, revealing a long-sleeved, button-down shirt that said "New York" on one side. I grinned at the appropriateness of her gift.

"I guess you saw me mangling my old one, then?"

She just nodded, giving me a knowing smile. "And I thought long sleeves might be a good idea. For, you know, the first impression."

It took me a second to understand her meaning. "The scars?" I asked. She nodded again. "But I thought you wanted to make Edward a little uneasy. Wasn't that the point, to make him stay because he was worried about the new scary vampires?"

"Leave Edward to me," she sniffed. "I'm just trying to make our arrival as, mmm, relaxing as possible. Besides, Edward won't be there in the beginning. Come on, try it on!"

I gladly tossed my shirt into the brush, donning the new one. A perfect fit, of course. I hadn't worn a brand-new shirt since I was human. It was nice to feel the starchy fabric sliding over my chest. I felt downright _polished._

"They don't sell shoes in the Welcome Center," Alice continued. "Otherwise I would have stolen some."

I shook my head, buttoning up the rest of the shirt. "It's all right. I know you hate stealing, anyway."

She smiled, her teeth sparkling along with her skin. "Won't have to anymore!"

I grinned back, feeling her rising excitement. "How do I look?"

She reached up to the collar, giving the right side a tug. "You look amazing," she whispered, pulling me down by the collar for a kiss. I responded by picking her up to my level, but she laughed, pushing me away after a moment. "None of that! We have to get going, if we're going to get there in time."

"In time for what?"

Her eyes narrowed. "In time to prevent Edward from making a _complete_ idiot of himself, instead of just a partial one." She frowned up at my rumpled collar, straightening it again. I lifted my hand as well, sighing when I felt the one scar that I would never be able to hide, unless I wore a scarf.

"It's all right," she insisted. She opened the map that she had bought, and passed it to me along with a compass she had bought with the last of the money. I studied both for a moment, and after pocketing the compass, we left the map behind and began running. Alice's excitement was growing with every mile, to the point where she was almost floating over the ground. I hated to bring her back down to earth, but we needed to nail down the logistics of our approach.

"Alice, we need to talk about how much of my past we're going to reveal, when we get there. Have you seen the initial conversation?"

"Parts of it," she said absently, checking again. She began chewing on her lip, frowning. "Not much of it. There's just too many people, too many decisions involved. But I don't want to start everything off by lying, do you? Carlisle hates it when people lie to him."

"I suppose not. It might be best to downplay my, ah, tenure in the Wars, though. And the whole executioner thing…"

"I see your point. We'll tell them eventually, though."

"Eventually. Now, what was that you said about Edward not being there in the beginning?"

She nodded. "He and Emmett will still be out hunting, if we get there when I think we will. I see us getting there by, what, noon?"

I nodded, picturing the map in my head. "That'll be good," I said in relief. They're the two I was most worried about."

Alice slowed to a jog. "What do you mean, worried? They're-"

"I know, our _family_," I parroted. "Darlin', you may know these people-somewhat- but they don't know us at all. Vampires don't always respond well to strangers. And you've never actually…" I was about to say, interacted with anyone except me. Of course, she heard it anyway.

"It's going to be fine!" she said with a pout. Alice's pout was one of the most adorable sights on earth. She was just so... well, adorable.

"Yes, but how much have you actually _seen_ about the next few days?"

"Not as much as I'd like," she admitted. "Everyone's futures are sort of… turbulent right now. Things are a little blurry."

I felt her deception instantly. "Alice…"

"Okay! A lot blurry. But I know it'll be all right in the end. I've still got the Family Portrait. And I still don't see Edward leaving anymore. And I'm almost _positive_ that I'm going shopping with Esme and Rosalie later this afternoon."

"Alone?" I hissed.

"Well, it's not like _you_ can come. Jasper," she sighed. "I know you want to see this as some kind of military engagement, with strategies and escape routes and backup plans. But this is a special day, too. We're joining our family. Let's enjoy it!"

"I'll try," I sighed. And I did try, as we ran in silence for a while. I tried to guess what it might be like to have a mother. I tried to imagine laughing with my new brothers, or playing pranks on Rosalie like I used to do with my human sisters. But I couldn't get past the fear that Alice's visions hadn't told us the whole story. And even if the Cullens were normally peaceable, they might not be that way this week, or once we arrived.

But it was a relief to know that Edward and Emmett wouldn't be present for the initial encounter. I would be able to use my gift freely without anyone picking through my mind, and I wouldn't have to worry about Emmett ripping me in half if I looked at Rosalie the wrong way.

Our first challenge would be Carlisle, then. Alice had always described him as a gentle soul, and I believed her. But he was still the leader of the coven, and it was his responsibility to intercept possible threats, like us. He would already be on the defensive, if we arrived while it was just him and the females. Not that females couldn't fight; I had only made _that_ mistake once. But it was still good, especially since his mate would be there; he would be much less likely to attack that way. And I would start working on him immediately. I would begin with a shot of peace, before Carlisle even opened the door. And then, as the conversation continued, I would slowly ramp up a feeling of trust. Once we got in his good graces, I would taper off my influence slowly, so that by the time Edward got home, the offensive side of my gift wouldn't be too active. Then Edward would be free to be as suspicious as he wanted, but he wouldn't have anything specific to accuse me of, as long as I kept from _thinking_ about using my gift. And if all went according to plan, Carlisle would already be welcoming us into the family by that time. This would keep Edward around, and Alice would have everything she wanted, and we would all live happily ever after.

If it all went according to plan. I peeked over at Alice, who was running and dodging trees with her usual grace. "Alice," I said thoughtfully "That was a good idea you had, about covering up the scars. But I want to add one more precaution, if you don't mind."

She peeked ahead, hearing my next sentence. "You want to hide your gift? But it'll be obvious that you're an empath. To Edward, at least."

"I don't mean all of it. Just my ability to influence emotions- you know, the offensive part. I think it'll help Carlisle accept us, if he doesn't know about that."

She rolled her eyes, leaping over a fallen tree. "He'll accept us, Jasper, trust me."

"I do trust you. It's just…"

It was hard to put into words. Before meeting Alice, I had never trusted anyone except Peter. I hadn't even turned my back to Maria, the last ten years I was with her. And my newborns were certainly volatile enough. Forming a friendship with Peter had been difficult for me, after keeping my own counsel for so long. Our alliance was cordial, and conversational, but I wouldn't say that I trusted him at the time. And he certainly hadn't trusted _me_ at the time; he hadn't confided in me regarding Charlotte. It wasn't until he returned for me that I realized the power of the affection that we felt for each other. And he had taken a huge risk coming back at all, trusting that I wouldn't betray his presence. And I had trusted him in return, leaving with him and Charlotte that very night. But other than that, I had little experience with trust.

Until Alice. I had come to trust her visions implicitly, because of how many times they had helped me avoid humans. If she told me to hold my breath, I held it. If she told me to run North at my top speed, I ran. And so when she told me that everything would be all right when we got to the Cullen house, I trusted her… mostly. But this was different from avoiding those accidents. This involved five other vampires, whose temperaments and decisions could change at the blink of an eye. And while I had every confidence in my abilities- both in combat and in terms of my gift- they had the numbers, not to mention Edward's gift and Emmett's strength. How could I protect Alice, if things took a turn for the worse?

"It's just that your visions aren't set it stone, love. You know that. And you don't know how volatile our kind can be. I just want to go into this with every possible precaution. And no matter what, I want you to stay close to me, just in case." It suddenly occurred to me that I had never taught her anything about fighting; how on earth had I never gotten around to that? She was so small and thin, so easily broken… My worry overflowed onto her, and she stood on her tiptoes, planting a kiss on the jagged scar that wound its way up the side of my neck.

"This is different," she said, the right side of her lips twitching with amusement. "I like it."

"What?"

"You, being overprotective. Of _me_. Isn't it funny?"

She was right; she had hit the nail right on the head. Up until now, it had been Alice protecting _me_. She had protected me from having accidents, from giving up on the new diet, from the emotional hallucinations that my withdrawal had brought me. She had done more than that; she had saved me from the misery that was my life, before her. She had given me a reason to live. But now it was time for me to assume the mantle of being _her_ protector. The power of her gift notwithstanding, it was my responsibility, both as her mate and as the experienced soldier that I was. I was so used to indulging her every whim, and obeying her visions without question, that it was difficult for me to insist on anything. It was bad enough that I had agreed to do this so soon. Maybe this didn't have to happen. Maybe I could talk her out of it. But she was still smiling, her visions registering no change. No point in trying, then.

"Just allow me this one favor, ma'am," I said with mock solemnity, drawling out my accent to the extreme.

She brought her hand to her forehead in salute, flipping her palm toward me like a good Johnny Reb. "Yes, sir," she chirped, and my heart swelled as it answered her love. "So," she continued, slapping her hand back to her side, "it's okay to tell them that you're an empath, and it's okay to tell them about the Wars, just a bit?"

"Just a bit. Let's tell them about my gift first, and then once they get to yours they'll be so blown away that they'll forget all about me."

She pouted again. "If it makes you feel better. But we really have to get going, if you want time to 'work' on Carlisle, as you put it." Her amusement spoke for itself; she really was just indulging what she saw as a silly worry. I hoped that was all it was, because we were out of time. The sun was climbing fast, and we began our final sprint, racing towards our destiny.

.

.

.

We crossed the scent of two vampires in the southern tip of Coolidge State Forest. It was quite fresh; they had passed this way earlier in the morning.

"That must be Edward and Emmett," Alice mused, sniffing the air curiously. "I wonder which is which?" Her eyes unfocused for just a second. "Ha! They're going to be surprised when they find our scent here later. That will give us less time." We ran even faster after that; again, she was just indulging my worry.

We reached the house all too quickly, and I was pleased to see how isolated it was. That would definitely help. The smell of gasoline was fresh on the air; one of them must have just come home. I could hear three distinct voices coming from the house. A female- Rosalie, I assumed- was telling the other two about some sort of college application form.

"You may want to hit Rosalie with an extra dose of whatever it is you're cooking up," Alice said thoughtfully.

"Why's that?"

"Mmmm… I just think it's a good idea."

"Okay. You ready?"

Alice took a deep, quick breath and let it back out. Her excitement was shifting to anxiety now, and she slipped her hand inside mine. "I've been ready since I woke up. You?"

I tried to shrug, but apparently I was wound so tight my shoulder's wouldn't move. I would need to relax, if I was going to be producing the emotions I wanted to hand out. I glanced down at Alice, taking her hand. She was nervous, as well. Had she looked like this while she waited for me in the diner?

"Want a little help?" I murmured, rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb. She nodded, and I took a deep breath, generating every ounce of calm that I could, and wrapping her in it like a cloud. At the same time, I pulled at her anxiety, making it my own. Her shoulders sank down, and she winked up at me gratefully. Now that she was calmer, her excitement was growing again, and she stood up eagerly on her toes, ready to step into the yard.

"Wait," I said, pulling her back. "One more thing. I want you to let me know when Edward and Emmett are close enough for him to hear us. I'd like to send him a greeting, and that's also when I'll scale back on my influence."

Alice leaned closer, her eyes sparkling. "Want to make a secret code?" she teased.

I just bent down, kissing her hand. "You're adorable, you know that?"

"I know," she sang quietly. As I stood back up, she pecked my cheek and bounced up on her toes again. "Now come on."

We approached the house hand in hand, and I began sending peace towards it. As soon as my foot hit the first step, the voices inside quieted, and the door opened to reveal a blonde male vampire: Carlisle. I detected a hint of anxiety, but no fear. So far, so good.

"Hello," he said kindly, and a smile lit his handsome face as he looked down at Alice. Curiosity blossomed, and I answered it with another wave of peace, reminding myself not to pull Alice behind me. "It's not often that we receive visitors, but you are welcome. My name is-"

"Carlisle!" Alice squealed, shoving past me and bouncing up in the air toward him. I laid my hand on her shoulder and held her down, whispering her name in warning.

Carlisle's smile faded, and his anxiety peaked again. "I'm sorry, you have me at a disadvantage. But your eyes!"

"My name is Jasper Whitlock," I said, careful to keep my teeth hidden. "This is Alice. And yes, we are animal drinkers like you."

"Carlisle Cullen," Carlisle said, nodding and smiling again. "Please come in, and meet my family." He opened the door wider, motioning us inside. I raised my eyebrows in surprise; I hadn't even started with the trust yet. But Alice was already inside, tugging my hand along with her. I was suddenly aware of my dirt-caked feet, but it was too late to worry about that. We followed Carlisle into the living room, where I saw two females, one with caramel –colored hair, and the other blonde: Esme and Rosalie. Carlisle moved towards the dark-haired one, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "My wife Esme," he said, surging with pride and love. "And our daughter, Rosalie," he added, indicating the other. "We have two sons as well, but they're out hunting at the moment."

Esme smiled kindly, just like her mate. She was filled with curiosity, having overheard my introduction. "It's nice to meet you both," she said, her voice mellow and warm. "And especially nice to meet others who share our way of life!" Rosalie just stood frozen, and I saw what Alice had meant. She was brimming with anxiety, and no small amount of hostility. But she forced a smile anyway, and nodded to us. I nodded back, sending her a-

"Esme!" Alice cried joyfully, running forward before I could stop her. She crashed right into Carlisle's mate, and for one frightening moment, I thought there was going to be a fight. Everyone gasped in surprise, and Esme stumbled back a step, wrapping her arms around Alice. Rosalie bared her teeth, taking a step closer to them. I hissed in alarm, crouching in readiness for Carlisle's attack. I would need to fend him off first; I just hoped Esme wouldn't bite Alice before I got to them. Though maybe Rosalie would be the fiercer opponent… but Esme's crushing arms simply returned Alice's hug, and her anxiety only spiked for just a moment, settling into mere surprise. I stood back up sheepishly, and put my unused energy into sending a thick wave of trust over everyone. Rosalie settled back onto her heels, though she was still showing her teeth.

"Alice," I hissed. "Don't do that. They don't understand."

"Understand what?" Rosalie asked sharply.

Alice finally released her new mother, grinning around the room. "Sorry," she sang. "I'm just really, _really_ excited to meet you all!" Her eyes darted around the house, a feeling of contentment bubbling up to join her smile.

"I can see that," Carlisle said, sending me a nervous glance. But he turned back to Alice, smiling again. "I think it might be a good idea if we all sit down and explain… whatever there is to explain."

He waved his hand toward a low piece of furniture. It was a couch, I remembered- a low platform with cushioning, meant for a pair or group to sit on together. I didn't like the idea of being in such an indefensible posture, but I thought we had better do as he said, after Alice's display. No doubt he was trying to put us in a vulnerable position, and establishing his dominance. I nodded, pulling Alice over to the platform. I bent my body at an awkward right angle and sat down, pulling Alice against me and clamping my arm around her shoulders to prevent any further surprises. Meanwhile, Carlisle left the room, leaving the females unprotected; a gesture of trust. I relaxed a bit, but I was also confused. Was he always this foolish?

He reappeared a moment later, carrying a wooden chair in each hand and motioning for the females to sit. Rosalie just folded her arms and pressed her lips together, so Carlisle took the chair beside his mate's. Why were we all sitting down?

"Alice and Jasper," he began, "it seems that you have some prior knowledge of our family. Are you acquainted with a coven of five up in central Alaska?"

"Not yet," Alice answered, her smile unchanged. "Though we'd love to meet them. Tanya seems so _nice_. I don't understand why Edward is always so rude to her. And Carmen is such a sweetheart, and Kate too, although I'm not sure about Irina. And Eleazar… well, I think he's going to have a field day with-"

"Alice," I sighed. "I think you'd better start at the beginning. Or better yet, let _me_ start at the beginning." I gave her a pleading look, and she clamped her mouth shut, her eyes sparkling with mischief; she was humoring me again. She leaned back into my elbow, sighing delicately.

"I think that would help," Carlisle said, his anxiety shifting to amusement. "Would I be correct in guessing that one of you is gifted? It's the only explanation I can think of, if you aren't acquainted with the Denalis."

I nodded politely. "We both are. I am an empath, and Alice has visions of the future." I paused a moment, letting their shock subside before I continued. I decided to tell them as much as possible about my human life; it seemed that the Cullens would like that sort of thing. "I was born in 1844, down in Houston, Texas. Like most of our kind, I don't remember much about those days. I do remember that I had an older sister, and that my mother died when I was quite young. My father and I…" I hesitated, glancing up at Carlisle. Now that the first test was passed, I was beginning to hope in the future Alice had envisioned. What would it be like to have a _father_ again? There was a reason I had run away from home when I was sixteen.

"Go on," Carlisle said gently. I had hesitated too long, and he was feeling pity now.

"After my sister married and moved away, things were… difficult. I left home as well, and lied about my age to join the Confederate Army."

"You were in the Civil War?" Esme asked, full of awe.

"Yes ma'am," I said with a polite nod. This was the part of the story I could be proud of. "For two years. I rose quickly through the ranks, and I was soon the youngest major in the entire Army. On the night that I was changed, I was escorting a group of women and children out of Galveston, because of the battle there. I had just dropped them off in Houston, and was riding back for the next group when they found me. Three females, and I naturally assumed they were stragglers from the group I had just been with. I drew closer to offer my assistance, and the leader, Maria, decided to change me, instead of feeding. She had a sense that I might be… useful, with my military experience."

I paused again, leaving out the gory details. "You have heard of the Wars in the South?" I asked, watching my audience carefully.

Carlisle nodded, his pity growing as he guessed the next part of the story. I spun his pity larger and larger, letting it settle over the whole group. "Maria was one of those who formed armies of newborns. After I had woken up, she wanted me to take part. And I did for a while, but only because I didn't know there was another way. She told me that the Wars covered the earth, and that if I were to desert, I would just find myself in another battle somewhere else. Fortunately, one of these deserters returned, and told me the truth. I left that night, and soon discovered that he was right. I was relieved to get away from the fighting."

"How awful!" Esme sighed, shaking her head. "I'm glad you were able to escape. Is that when you met Alice?"

"No, I only met her two years ago," I said, looking down at Alice fondly. "I wandered with my friend and his mate- Peter and Charlotte- for a little while, and then I struck off on my own." Alice stirred under my arm, eager to tell her story now.

"Meanwhile, I woke up in 1920," she announced, and everyone shifted their gaze to her. "I didn't remember anything about my human life, and I still don't. But I-"

Rosalie finally came to life. "You don't remember _anything_ about being a human?" she asked, amazed.

"Nothing. Anyway, as soon as I woke up, I started having visions. The first one was of Jasper, and the second one…" she paused dramatically. "Was of you- all the Cullens. It was sort of like a family portrait, and Jasper and I were in it, our eyes golden like yours."

"Amazing," Carlisle sighed. "In 1920, it was only Edward and me. Yet you saw Rosalie, back then?"

"And Emmett, and Esme. I figured out that the pictures in my head were visions of the future, and that my destiny was to be with Jasper. And that _our_ destiny was to become a part of your family."

It was almost funny, how everyone's eyebrows shot up at once. I stirred up the trust again. Alice hadn't wasted any time, had she?

"Anyway, I was still a newborn, and I was really confused," Alice went on. "I didn't know what the golden eyes meant, and I didn't know where to go. I didn't even know what I was, for a while. But I began watching Jasper, and you and Edward, as much as I could. I saw the day you changed Esme, and-"

Now Carlisle was truly amazed. "You _saw_ me change Esme?"

"Yes! I had already seen her in that first picture, so as soon as I saw you carrying her into the house, I knew that she was going to be a Cullen. Edward was all upset, and I could tell how much you loved her already, how nervous you were… it was so _romantic_!" She sighed, leaning back into my arm again. "No, Esme. It doesn't work like that."

Carlisle frowned, turning to his mate. "Did you say something?"

Esme's eyes were wide. "No, but I was about to. I was about to ask if she had seen us meeting the first time, back when I was sixteen. How did you hear me, Alice? Was it a… vision?"

Alice nodded cheerfully.

"But you said your visions were pictures," Carlisle said. "You can hear things, as well?"

"They're pictures when they're farther ahead," Alice explained. "When it's something that's going to happen, say, in two days or less, I sometimes get sound and movement as well, depending on how certain the event is. It's just like watching a movie! Only if I'm paying attention of course, which I am right now. So I heard Esme's question as soon as she decided to ask it. Anyway, Esme, the reason that I never saw you as a younger human was that I only see the future. I don't see anything of the past… not even my own. It took me years to figure out my own name! I was in a department store, and this lady-"

"Wait a minute," Rosalie interrupted. "Are you telling us that you've been _watching_ us this whole time?"

"As much as I could," Alice answered. "Though it took me a long time to learn how to control what I saw. Anyway, after I-"

"How much, exactly, have you been watching?" Rosalie demanded. She flared with anger, and I stiffened against the sudden change. I sent peace into the room again. It was a good thing we had decided not to immediately reveal the fact that I was capable of "helping" them trust us. Rosalie probably wouldn't like that, either.

"Oh, I give privacy where it's needed," Alice assured her. "And believe me, I've only gotten bits and pieces. For example, Rosalie, I know that your engagement ring used to belong to Edward's human mother, and I know you got that dress at Macy's last week, but I've never been able to figure out your maiden name."

Rosalie's jaw clenched, and her anger flared again. Maybe _she_ hadn't known about the ring. Or maybe it was just hearing Edward's name that did it; Alice had told me how much they liked to bicker. Or maybe getting angry was just a habit of hers.

"My name was Rosalie Hale," she ground out, her self-pity replacing some of the anger. I shoved a wave of peace towards her, and her arms fell to her sides.

Alice was delighted. "There! See how much easier it is, when I can just ask? Anyway, Carlisle, after you changed Esme, I was able to figure out the animal diet. What a relief! So there I was, alone, just watching and waiting, until two years ago. I had known that I would meet Jasper in a diner in Philadelphia, and I had always had that vision as a still picture, because it was in the distant future. As soon as the picture turned into a movie, I knew it was time, and so I ran to Philadelphia to meet him."

"My turn," I insisted, smiling as her excitement and love enveloped us both. "It was raining, and so I went into the diner to get out of the weather. And Alice was there, waiting for me and already loving me. She told me that I had kept her waiting a long time." I pulled her closer, kissing the top of her hair and soaking in the happiness that our love story was giving everyone. Even Rosalie responded, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "It was love at first sight for me, as well. Alice told me everything, and introduced me to the animal diet. Though, as you can see, I still… struggle, from time to time."

"I'm sure it must be difficult," Carlisle said kindly. "Especially after so many years of feeding traditionally. Making the choice you have made, this far into your second life, is quite an achievement." He swelled with _pride_, of all things. I smiled hesitantly back at him, nodding my thanks.

"Anyway, here we are!" Alice squealed, slipping out from under my arm and bouncing to her feet. "Which room do you think we should take? Wait, I know!" She zipped up the stairs, leaving the Cullens to stare at me in disbelief and amusement.

"My apologies," I said quickly. "She's been planning this day for years. We can stay out in the woods, of course, or we could come back another time, if-"

"No, no, it's quite all right," Carlisle insisted. "We're just taking it all in. Esme, if it's all right with you…" He looked at his mate with a hint of worry, but she nodded immediately.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like," she said kindly. Rosalie flared with jealousy and let out some kind of choking sound, but she nodded, as well. I filled the room with peace again, pleased with how things were going. Nobody was feeling afraid anymore, and something strange was growing in Esme's heart- it felt like love, if that was possible already. Though maybe she was just thinking about her other children. It was certainly a type of love I had never felt before. It was… tender.

"I think we'd better go up with her," she added. She went up the stairs first, followed by Rosalie. Carlisle gestured for me to go up before him, and after a brief hesitation, I nodded and began my ascent. It was unnerving to turn my back on him so soon, but I detected no malice. I made it safely to the next floor to find Alice darting in and out of one of the bedrooms, emptying it of its contents. Worry was rising from Esme.

"Alice, maybe we'd… I don't… that's Edward's room," she finished weakly.

"I know, but it has the best view!" Alice called from within the room. She reemerged, carrying a load of shirts still on their hangers and balancing a potted plant on top of them all. "Don't worry, he'll get over it. I should know!"

Esme looked doubtful, and her worry spiked. "You can already see that? I mean, if you're sure…"

Alice handed me the pile of clothes, catching the plant as it began to fall. "Of course he will! Rosalie, want to help?"

Rosalie smiled mischievously, her jealousy dissipating. "Absolutely," she said, heading into the room behind Alice.

"Rosalie…" Esme said in a warning tone.

"What? She said he would get over it." She began tearing things off the walls, feeling a odd sense of pleasure as she did it. "Where should we put his things?" she wondered aloud.

Carlisle opened his mouth, but Alice zipped past us again with another armload. "The garage! Good idea, Carlisle!" She disappeared down the stairs and Rosalie followed with her arms full as well. Her amusement so ridiculously strong that I barked out a laugh myself.

Carlisle and Esme turned to me curiously. "I'm sorry," I told them. "It's just that Rosalie is feeling very amused right now. Her emotion was so strong that it affected me, as well. It happens sometimes."

"Edward is going to be so glad to meet you, Jasper," Esme said. "He's always wanted to meet an empath."

I stiffened at the mention of Edward. How long did we have until he and Emmett returned? I could only imagine what his reaction would be if he met us while we were dumping his belongings out of his room. When Alice zipped past me again, I grabbed her arm.

"Why don't we do this later?" I suggested, giving her a meaningful look.

"Oh, we have plenty of time!" she said, twisted her arm out of my hand. "They won't be back until we're in the living room, anyway."

"The living room?" asked Carlisle. "How do you-"

"Saw it!" Alice yelled, her voice echoing in the now-empty closet. "Jasper, come here for a minute!"

I left Carlisle and Esme in the hallway, whispering to each other. Alice was standing inside the closet, beckoning to me with her finger. I darted over to her, and she leapt up into my arms, peppering my face with kisses. "We're going to have some good times in this closet, Jasper Whitlock," she whispered. "I've seen it." I sighed in contentment, pushing her back up against the wooden wall of the closet and kissing her soundly, pulling away only when we heard Rosalie's footsteps on the stairs.

"Told you everything would be fine," Alice whispered in my ear as I set her down. "Three down, two to go!" I couldn't help it; I was beginning to share her excitement. Everything in my life that was worth smiling about had come to me because of my Alice, and this was shaping up to be one of them.

"Try not to jump on them when they get here," I pleaded, but I was smiling, as well.

"Where's your stuff?" Rosalie asked, entering the room.

"Stuff?" I echoed.

"We don't have any stuff!" Alice sang, twirling around in a circle and flopping backwards onto a leather couch that ran along the outside wall. "But you and Esme are taking me shopping later. I can't wait! Oh, it's going to be so much fun having a sister!"

"A… sister?" Rosalie seemed to be chewing on the word, curiosity blending with pleasure. She glanced down at Alice, and bent down to touch the frayed fabric of her dress. "You're right, we should _definitely _go shopping." Then she straightened up, looking at me uncertainly. "I mean, you could come if you want, too, Jasper. You've probably never been separated from your… mate before, have you? You could wear Carlisle's sunglasses, to hide your eye color."

I was touched. Not only did Rosalie understand my anxiety, but she was reaching out in friendship, despite her reservations. Perhaps my new sister and I would get along, after all. "Thank you," I said, nodding slightly, "but it wouldn't be possible. I'm not able to be around humans. Not yet, anyway."

"Oh. Then I suppose you won't be joining us in school this fall then?"

Alice's eyes opened wide, and she sat up in a blur. "School…" Her eyes glazed over and a huge smile spread over her face. She snapped out of it and bounced right into Rosalie's arms, squeezing her around the waist. "Oh, we're going to have such good times together, Rosalie!"

Rosalie smiled uncertainly, slowly moving her arms to return Alice's embrace. I sent yet another wave of peace their way, and Rosalie's shoulders relaxed. "What about you, Jasper?" she asked, releasing Alice. "What should we get for you when we go out later?"

"Don't trouble yourself," I said reflexively. Rosalie quirked an eyebrow, staring down at my bare feet. "Well… I guess I could do with some shoes. Don't spend too much, though, please. I don't have any… funds at the moment." I was suddenly struck with shame as I realized how much I hadn't been able to give my mate before now: a roof over her head, possessions, female companionship, new clothes, shoes even! Mostly human needs, but there was no mistaking the happiness that Alice was buzzing with right now. For the first time, I was glad that Edward had started this whole mess two days ago, just so that Alice could be here now. If he hadn't, there was no telling how long I would have put this off.

Rosalie waved her hand dismissively. "If you're going to be a Cullen, the first thing to learn is that Carlisle provides for his family." She felt a flash of guilt, but then smiled again. "Now sit down, please." She motioned to the couch, and I sat obediently. She picked up my dirty foot, measuring it against the length of her arm. Then she held her arm against mine, measuring that as well, and eyed the width of my waist, and then my chest. She felt a brief moment of admiration as her eyes swept over me, but it was soon gone. I took the opportunity to study her, as well. She was just as beautiful as Alice had described her, and more. But she didn't compare to my Alice. Not even close.

Esme entered the room then, smiling at all of us. "I was thinking, Alice, why don't Rosalie and I take you shopping later on today?"

Alice and Rosalie collapsed into giggles, and Esme looked at me in confusion. "You'll just have to get used to it," I told her with a smile.

.

.

.

Once we had emptied our new room of Edward's belongings, we retired to the living room to wait for him and Emmett. Alice and I sat on the couch again.

"So, Carlisle," she said excitedly, "I've been dying to hear about _you_. You've lived a long time, haven't you?"

"I'm afraid I still don't understand how your visions work," he confessed. "Don't you already know everything?"

"Bits and pieces, remember," she replied. "I've picked up tidbits about your past from conversations that I've overheard, but I've never really heard much about what you were doing before I woke up. I know you're from England, and that you've been a doctor for a long time, but that's it. I don't even know what year you changed Edward in."

"It was 1918," he replied, his heart surging with love and pride. "I myself was changed back in 1663."

"1663?" Alice and I echoed together. I had no _idea_ he was that old. It seemed that Alice hadn't either. "Tell us everything," Alice urged. "And I promise not to peek ahead!"

"Very well," Carlisle chuckled, "though it will take a while. I was born in…"

He began talking, taking us back to the seventeenth century. It was a fascinating tale. He had woken up like Alice, alone and confused, though with his memories intact. Both Alice and were shocked to learn that he had _never_ fed on human blood before. I considered myself an expert on newborn behavior, but this seemed impossible. He didn't seem to be lying, though. He continued his story, bringing us to the current century, and his decision to create a companion. When he spoke of finding Edward in a Chicago hospital, and of his change, I observed a curious mixture of love and guilt arising from his heart.

Soon after that, Alice nudged my shoulder. I glanced over to her, and her eyes darted meaningfully toward the window. They were coming, then. I began scaling down my influence slowly and watching the Cullens carefully as I did so. They didn't seem to notice the change. I didn't really understand everything about how my gift worked, even after all these years. Would the peace and trust I had been emitting stay around for a while, hanging in the air like a scent? Or would the Cullen's immediately begin feeling uncomfortable around us, now that I wasn't artificially boosting their trust? I should have done this earlier, so that I would have time to observe the effects. Now wasn't the time to experiment, not with two vampires just coming to stir up the mix. I would continue to emit peace and trust through the day, then. I could probably do it without conscious thought; I had done it often enough throughout my first century. But now I needed to stop thinking about it, since Edward was approaching. I decided to send him a greeting, to put him at ease ahead of time. How did one speak to a telepath? I concentrated on forming words in my mind. _Edward. __I don't know if you can hear us yet, but don't be alarmed. __My name is Jasper, and my mate's name is Alice. __We are not hostile._

I turned my attention full to Carlisle after that, refusing to think about anything involving the emotional climate of the room. Afather waiting a while, I sent the greeting again. Four seconds after that, Alice perked up beside me. "They're almost home," she announced cheerfully. She turned to me, her eyes sparkling with that "I'll humor you" look again. "He heard you," she told me. I nodded my understanding.

"Amazing," breathed Carlisle. "Simply amazing. Jasper, can you sense them yet with your gift?"

I shook my head, trying not to think about it. "Please, go on," I urged him. He smiled and continued his tale. He had skipped over the part about Edward leaving home, though he had glanced at Alice curiously, when he got to the part he was omitting. He must have been wondering how much we knew. He had moved on quickly, and was just getting to Rosalie's change when Alice sat up straighter, and we all heard a footstep on the porch outside. I felt their curiosity before I saw them.

The door opened and a slender male vampire with bronze-colored hair all but fell through the door, as another one shoved his way inside. The second one was _huge_- at least two inches taller than me, and twice as big, his biceps thicker than my head. Emmett, without a doubt. My instincts bristled and I ached to leap up in front of Alice, but I reminded myself not to appear hostile. Besides, I had to keep Alice down, or she would no doubt do something unexpected. To my dismay, she jumped up anyway, right toward Edward. I followed her instinctively, reaching for her shoulders to pull her back. But she was too quick, as usual, and threw herself right into Edward's arms, feeling right at home.

"Hello, Edward! I'm Alice! Well, you already knew that, because we told you. It's so good to see you, in person I mean! Oh, isn't it wonderful?!"

Edward was shocked, to say the least. He set her down, only to be shocked again when Alice dove for Emmett. Seeing her so close to such a huge vampire made me feel a little sick. He could snap her like a twig! I swallowed nervously, but his huge, friendly smile spoke for itself. He boomed out a laugh as his huge arms enveloped her easily. I sighed in relief, relaxing my stance. He really _was_ a gentle giant.

"Sorry," I told Edward and Emmett. "She gets like this sometimes. She's harmless, though."

I doubt _that_," Edward replied with a smirk, and everyone laughed. The room filled with amusement, and the increasing curiosity of the two younger males. Alice had been right all along; this had gone even better than I had dared to hope. I still didn't know what manner of people the Cullens were - not really- but it was obvious we weren't in any immediate danger. I took a deep breath and let it out, soaking in the positive emotions that were surrounding me. I relaxed some more, smiling hesitantly and watching Alice with pleasure as she laughed. I finally laughed with her, unable to resist the heady amusement swirling around me. Once again, Alice had brought me into a whole new world, and I loved her for it.

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**I know you'll probably want to go right to 1950 now to read the rest, but please come back to review this one when you get a chance! This ends the "Alice/Jasper" section of the outtakes, for now. ** **You've all made so many great outtake requests, and I can't wait to write some of them!**


	12. 1950: First Shopping Trip

**It's high time we had an Esme Outtake! This one was requested by abishop47, and takes place during 1950 Chapters 10-12. Enjoy!**

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**Esme POV**

I glanced up into the rear view mirror again, studying our newest daughter. Alice was a very petite girl, no bigger than a child. She looked to be full grown, though- perhaps eighteen or nineteen. She was beautiful, of course, though in a different way than Rosalie; her hair was her most remarkable feature, midnight black flames leaping away from her head at all angles. It made her look surprised, like she had just gotten some sort of shock.

But her smile was pure sunshine, and her golden eyes were full of excitement, and perhaps just a little mischief. I couldn't even imagine what was going through her mind, in terms of thoughts and _visions_, on this first day with our family: she had been waiting thirty years for this day, after all.

She was just so sweet, and so peculiar! At the moment, though, she looked a little worried. "Alice, dear, are you all right?" I asked.

She was staring out the window, turning in the back seat to watch behind us as we drove out the driveway. She blew her mate a kiss and then stared out the back window for another moment before turning around to face forward.

"I'm fine, Esme!" she said. Her voice was like a child's, too: high and happy. She leaned forward so that her face was between mine and Rosalie's. "This is so exciting! I've never been in a car before. How do you drive it?"

Rosalie shifted away from Alice's face, looking a little uncomfortable but smiling slightly at Alice's energy. "I can teach you, if you like," she offered. "Though haven't you learned by watching us?"

"Oh, I don't watch that sort of thing," Alice said, staring intently at my hands as I turned the steering wheel, pulling out onto the highway. "I mean, I've watched television a few times with you and Emmett, and I've watched Esme do things around the house sometimes, but I'd rather peek in when you're all doing something _interesting_. Like that time when…" she trailed off into silence, and Rosalie and I looked at each other in confusion.

"Alice?"

She perked up, looking at me. "Sorry! Just checking on Jasper. Anyway, like that time when Emmett –"

"Alice," I said gently. "Are you worried about being apart from your mate? We can go back, if you like."

"No, it's all right!" she said. "It's important for the boys to spend some time together before the big confrontation tonight."

"What confrontation?" Rosalie asked, leaning away from Alice again. Alice was climbing halfway up the side of Rosalie's seat, leaning across Rosalie's shoulder to look at herself in the side mirror. I couldn't help but smile; it was like having a toddler in the car, or even a half-grown puppy.

"Alice dear, one usually stays seated while the car is running," I told her. "Now, what confrontation?"

Alice plopped back onto the back seat. "Oh, about Jasper's gift. He was nervous about coming here, and so he decided to emit some helpful emotions: calm, trust, peace, whatever he felt was needed. Anyway, Edward is going to-"

"What do you mean, _emit_?" Rosalie asked sharply.

"I mean Jasper didn't tell you everything about his gift yet," Alice clarified, sitting up on her knees to look in the rear view mirror now. She frowned at her reflection, pulling at her unruly hair. "He can influence people's emotions, as well as sense them."

"You mean he's been _controlling_ us?" Rosalie said through her teeth.

"Oh, just _helping_," Alice said. "You can't blame him, really. He's so used to war and death and treachery, it was hard for him to accept the fact that you all were as nice as I told him you were. He's all about strategy, and emotional environment, and things like that. He didn't mean anything by it. So anyway, Edward's going to figure it out later, when he gets away from Jasper. And you know Edward, he's just so _dramatic_, he's going to go tattle to Carlisle…"

"Alice, I'm a little confused," I said, slowing down the car. "If there's going to be an argument, why don't we just go back now and explain everything? Maybe we can stop there from _being_ a confrontation."

Alice was quiet for a moment, but then shook her head. "No, it's better this way," she said firmly. Her eyes focused on nothing again, and I shared a worried glance with Rosalie. Alice seemed to be a sweet girl, and I felt sure that she and her mate would be happy with us. But I wasn't sure what to think about their gifts. First there was the fact that Alice had been watching us without our knowledge, and now it looked like Jasper had been engineering our acceptance of them earlier. Come to think of it, Carlisle and I had accepted them into the family without a moment's hesitation. And Edward and Rosalie had been so calm around each other, unusually so, considering their recent fight. Perhaps we had been a little quick to accept these strangers into our home. They both seemed so friendly- well, Alice did, anyway- that I couldn't imagine them wanting to harm us. But it was a little unsettling to discover how in _control_ they both were over this situation. I was beginning to feel a little uneasy.

But we _had_ welcomed them into our home, and they did need a home, after all. And they needed some clothes, if nothing else- and I was pleased to see how well Rosalie and her new sister were getting along. Although now, Rosalie's mood seemed to be deteriorating. Perhaps that was because we were away from Jasper now? Maybe that was why I was feeling more uneasy with every mile, though it didn't mean that we still couldn't make it work.

"Alice," I said. She just stared ahead, focusing intently on one of her visions.

"That's really strange," Rosalie muttered, staring at her in the rear view mirror.

"_Alice_," I said in a louder voice. She blinked twice, and looked at me.

"I don't know."

"You don't know what?" Rosalie asked.

"Esme was going to ask how long it takes for Jasper's influence to wear off. And the answer is, I don't know, because that's not the sort of thing I could figure out with my visions. And we've never met anyone else, since we were together, so I've never been around him when he's used his gift. And he doesn't like using it on me. But I would guess it wears off pretty quickly. Regular emotions can change pretty fast, anyway- it seems like his influence would wear off even faster than that."

"Well, that explains a lot," Rosalie grumbled to herself. "And just for future reference, Alice, it's impolite to answer someone before they ask a question out loud. We already have one family member who talks to the voices in his head."

"Rosalie," I murmured. "Alice is very new to all this. Let's be patient."

"Oh…" Alice said, looking downcast. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Rosalie. I'm so used to just watching all of you, like a television show. I don't really know how to _talk_ to people."

"It's all right," Rosalie sighed.

"It's not so much about manners, Alice," I said gently. "It's just confusing when you answer a person's question before they say it. It's especially confusing for the other people around, who didn't know what question you're answering."

"I see," Alice said brightly. "Okay, I'll try not to do that anymore."

"Maybe Edward can learn a thing or two from you," Rosalie said. "Manners like that seem to escape him on a regular basis."

"Rosalie," I sighed.

"I _know_!" Alice laughed, bouncing up onto her knees again. "Do you know it took me almost a year to figure out that he was a telepath? In the beginning, I thought he was schizophrenic!"

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Vampires can't have mental illnesses, or any kind of illness for that matter."

"Well, I didn't know that back then," she answered. "I didn't even know that I was a vampire until I read about them in a book- and even then, I didn't understand why I wasn't exactly like the ones in the story. I woke up without any memories, and no one taught me anything about who I was, or how to live."

"That must have been awful," I sighed. "I'm so glad you were able to use your visions to find out about us, and that you learned how to hunt animals that way, too."

"Me, too!" she said with a bright smile. "Anyway, I didn't really know at first how to control my visions that well. I'm guessing that when you were new, Carlisle and Edward explained his gift to you, but I missed that part. I was just catching little glimpses, here and there, and it wasn't until 1922 that I really started being able to sit and watch you all have conversations- I mean that I could hear. And so at first, it looked to me like Edward just kept saying things that didn't make sense, like he was talking to a voice he heard in his head. He would just be sitting in a room by himself and say random things, like 'No, thank you' or 'It's in the hall closet', when nobody else seemed to be speaking. It was really strange."

"I can see how that would be a little confusing," I admitted. "And I suppose that after while, none of us would think to say the word 'mind-reader' out loud, since it was just normal for us. So when did you figure it out?"

She thought for a moment. "It was in March of 1923," she said decidedly. "I was watching Edward, because he was playing the piano- I love his music! Anyway, the phone rang, and he answered it. He said a few things that made me guess that it was Carlisle on the phone. It sounded like he had called to ask Edward to look up something in his file cabinet, because Edward started rummaging through it, holding the phone with his shoulder. And then he laughed and said 'You know I hate talking to you on the phone. How am I supposed to know _which_ green folder, if I can't see you picture it in your mind?' So that got me thinking about all those times he was supposedly talking to himself, and everything made a lot more sense. It was a relief to learn that he wasn't demented, after all."

"I've known Edward for seventeen years," Rosalie said drily, "and I _still_ think he's demented."

"Rosalie!" I scolded. "That will be quite enough. I thought you two had made up! You were getting along so well earlier."

"That was because we were being manipulated by an empath," she growled.

"Well, wasn't it nice to be civil to each other?" I asked gently. Rosalie just folded her arms and looked pointedly out her window. "I know you're angry, sweetheart," I continued, "but I don't see how refusing to feel better is going to help. Maybe Jasper could help you again, when we get home."

"I don't _want_ to feel better," she said to the window. Then she glanced back at Alice. "I suppose you saw all that, didn't you?"

"Your fight with Edward yesterday?" Alice said quietly. "Yes, I saw it. I saw it the day before, sort of. I wished I could reach out and shake him before he said all those awful things to you."

"How?" I asked. "I thought you said your visions were based on the decisions people made. Surely Edward didn't decide beforehand to behave so poorly! And I'm positive that you would never would have hit him on purpose, Rosalie. You were just upset, and you lost control for the moment. It was an accident."

"Mostly," Rosalie muttered under her breath.

"Rosalie," I said sharply, "Do we need to discuss this _again_? You know how important it is for our kind to control our violent urges. Edward could have hurt you!"

Rosalie finally jerked her eyes to mine, her nails digging into her sleeves. "You _know_ he started it! And you heard what he said to me!"

"I know, dear. And it was very wrong of him, and very hurtful. But you're the one who took the fight to a dangerous level; you _know_ your father and I do not abide physical violence, under any circumstance except play-fighting."

"But we're _vampires_, Esme. Sometimes-"

"No buts, Rosalie. You and Edward both have some apologies to make later tonight, and under the… circumstances, I don't think you and Emmett should run off tonight at all. So even if Edward doesn't come forward first, I am trusting that you will still offer your own apology. You're older than him, in human terms, and you know how much he's been through this week. And you're not just a vampire; you're a young lady. You'll try to be gracious, won't you?"

"Yes," she sighed. "I already apologized for hitting him, anyway."

"Good. And?".

"And it won't happen again," she recited, rolling her eyes. I hated it when she did that, but I had already picked apart her behavior enough, and in front of Alice, too.

"I'm sorry, Alice," I said to the mirror. "I was about to ask you, how were you able to see their argument a whole day ahead of time, when they couldn't have possibly decided to have it?"

"I didn't see the whole conversation, per se," Alice said thoughtfully. "But I saw there would be a fight. It was sort of inevitable that something like that would happen, what with all that went wrong this week for him. You do sort of bring out the worst in each other, Rosalie."

Rosalie huffed and spun back to face forward. "No, she's right, dear," I said carefully. "You and Edward are both wonderful people. I can never understand why you bicker so much."

"It's because he's an overbearing, meddling, know-it-all," Rosalie said easily. "And he's incapable of minding his own business."

"No, _I'm_ incapable of minding my own business," Alice said gaily.

"Yes, but you're nice about it," Rosalie sniffed.

"Let's drop it for now," I sighed. "We're here." I pulled into the parking lot and Alice squealed with excitement, gluing herself to the left window to look at the storefronts.

"I love the blue dress!" she cried. "Thank you, Esme!"

"What blue dress?"

She pointed to the boutique on the left, jamming her finger against the glass. "We're going in there first, and you're going to find me the _sweetest_ blue dress, with short sleeves and white polka dots and-"

"That's _really_ strange," Rosalie mouthed to me behind Alice's back. "I hope she doesn't embarrass us in there."

"Alice…" I wasn't how to say this. "Before we go in, I think we'd better… I mean, have you ever been in a store with humans before?"

"Oh, yes!" she said. "And don't worry, I'll talk quietly and sit like a lady."

"I wasn't going to say that," I said quickly.

"Oh, yes you were!" she said with a twinkle in her eye. "But it's all right, I know how to behave in public, and how to sit, and all that. I used to sit in department stores, back when I first went on the animal diet."

"What do department stores have to do with hunting?" Rosalie asked.

"Well… after my eyes started to change, it was the first time that I could really spend time around humans. I mean, it took a little while for me to not go crazy around their scent, when I first stopped, but after that I loved to sit in department stores. I just loved to watch the mothers and children go about their shopping, chattering with each other and enjoying themselves. I knew that someday I would be able to go with you two, and so when I watched other families like that, it made me feel a little less lonely."

"Oh, Alice," I sighed, reaching back to grasp her little hand. "You must have felt so alone, all those years!"

"Yes, I was," she admitted. "For Jasper, but for all of you, too. It was so frustrating, being able to watch you all and not be able to participate!"

"Well, now it's time," I announced, squeezing her hand. "Although I'm sure you've gone shopping yourself plenty of times, on your own."

"No, I haven't," she replied with a dainty sigh.

"You've _never_ gone shopping?" Rosalie asked in shock. "But where'd you get that dress?"

"I stole it," she confessed. "I don't like stealing, but I didn't have any choice. In the beginning, I got my clothes off of my human victims. Or I would just sneak into a store at night and get something- my eyes were too red to go shopping with all those bright lights. And then when I switched to animals, and I _could_ be seen in public, I didn't have any money, because I wasn't killing people anymore. So I would just sit in the stores and watch people, stealing something only when I really needed it. And since Jasper, well… I don't like to leave him alone, so I go even less into town now. I just keep wearing the same thing until it wears out." She picked at the threadbare hem of her dress. "But not anymore! Jazz is going to _love_ the blue dress!"

"Well, here's a bit of advice for your first shopping trip," Rosalie said, getting out of the car. "Don't use your visions!"

"Why not?" Alice asked. "Oh, I see."

"See what?" I asked.

"Oops! Sorry," Alice sighed.

"That's exactly what I mean," Rosalie said. "Just like peeking ahead can spoil a conversation, peeking ahead while shopping is just going to take the fun right out of it. You've got to…" she waved her hand in the air, searching for the right word. "You've got to think of it like a hunt. Enjoy _looking_ for something you like, and enjoy the _act_ of looking for it. Use your imagination, not your visions. Don't just peek ahead to the end result. Shopping is all about the search, the mystery, the possibilities."

"Possibilities?" Alice asked, her eyes glazing over.

"You're doing it again," Rosalie growled playfully.

Alice laughed, coming out of her vision. "Okay, no more peeking. I mean, not on purpose. Sometimes I can't really help it."

"I can tell," Rosalie muttered. We walked into the boutique, and Alice made a beeline for the blue dress. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers, sighing.

"See?" Rosalie said. "Don't you think it would have been more fun if you had spent time looking through all the clothes, trying to decide what to get, instead of going right for the kill?"

"You're right!" Alice agreed. "But can I still get this one?"

"Of course," I laughed. "You can get whatever you want."

"_Anything_?" Alice asked, her eyes wide. "I've never owned more than one dress before!"

I laid my arm around her tiny shoulders. "Alice, of course I'll get you more than one thing," I said warmly. "You're a part of our family now."

"But I thought you said that before because Jasper was helping you trust us," she said, looking a little uncertain.

"Maybe so," I admitted. "But I'm feeling my own emotions right now, Alice. I'm happy that you're here, and I'm hoping that you will choose to stay with us. I'm sure the others will feel the same way, after Jasper explains everything."

"Mmmm," she said, staring off into space. "I'm not sure about that. But I still see us staying… mostly. So I think everything will work out."

I pulled her closer, squishing the blue dress between us. "I hope so," I said, my throat hitching. "Because nothing would make me happier than to give you the home you've been waiting for."

.

.

.

It was only ten minutes later that things got exciting. Alice had been having the time of her life flipping through the clothes in the boutique, and I had only had to remind her once to browse at human speed. She had taken a pile into the dressing room, and I had laughed to see her look of fierce concentration as she walked, the pile of clothes higher than her face.

"What's wrong?" I laughed.

"I'm trying not to peek ahead, really!" she said into the clothes. "But I have to peek a little, so I know where to step! I can't see a thing!"

I laughed. "Here, let me help you." I led her into the dressing room and closed the door to give her some privacy. I went back to find Rosalie looking thoughtfully at a pair of earrings.

"They're lovely, dear," I said, holding them up beside her face. "Why don't you get them?"

Rosalie sighed, taking the earrings from me and tracing them with her finger slowly. "Esme…"

But we were interrupted by the sound of Alice's high-pitched scream. We rushed back to the fitting room, only to find the store owner already opening the door. Alice was huddled in the corner, a blouse slid halfway onto her shoulders. She was a frozen statue, staring straight ahead in a panic.

"What's wrong, miss?" the owner asked. "Are you hurt?"

Alice jerked back to the present, staring up at the human. Her eyes were darker than they had been a moment ago, and I jumped in between them, just in case.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "You'll have to forgive my daughter. She has these fits sometimes… she'll be all right in a moment."

The owner sniffed disapprovingly. "If you can't control your children, ma'am, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Of course, we were just going," I said, kneeling to gather up the clothes as quickly as a human could. "Come on, Alice, dear. We're leaving."

Alice stood up, waiting until the owner went back out into the store. "I'm so sorry, Esme!"

"Never mind," I said, laying a soothing hand on her shoulder. "But what did you see? Is something bad going to happen?"

"No, everything is fine," she said sheepishly. "I just saw Edward attacking Jasper, and it took me a moment to realize that they were playing." She drew another deep breath. "I'm okay now."

"Let's get out of here," Rosalie sighed. "Did you pick something yet?"

"Not yet," Alice said. "Everything is too big!"

"There's always the children's section," Rosalie said with a smirk- but a friendly one, it seemed.

"Let's go to one of the department stores," I suggested. "They'll have a bigger petite section, and then we can pick out some things for Jasper, as well."

We paid for the blue dress and went to put it in the car before we headed into the department store.

"Shoes first," Rosalie announced. "And then underwear."

Alice's eyebrows jumped up into her hair. "I've never really thought much about underwear before," she admitted. "I mean, I always gave you all your privacy, so I don't really know anything about that."

"It's all right," I said. "I'll be able to-"

"_I'll _handle that part," Rosalie said firmly. "And the shoes. You could get some things for Jasper- he's a size twelve shoe. Why don't we meet back here in a little while?"

I agreed, and they dashed off at human speed toward the shoes, giggling about lingerie and looking for all the world like the sisters I hoped they would be. I moved on to the men's section, picking out a few shirts for Jasper. He looked to be about Edward's size, if a bit broader in the shoulders. I also chose three pairs of slacks- just a bit longer than Edward's, two belts and some socks, underthings, a sweater vest, and some summer shirts. I even found a winter jacket on sale. I would hold off on finer things, for now; he might not like that sort of thing, and I really wasn't sure how he would take it if I dumped too much on him.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but has your husband tried these yet?"

I turned around to see a salesclerk waving at me with one hand, lifting up a pair of denim pants with the other. I was about to explain that I was shopping for my son, but it was simpler not to.

"Oh, thank you!" I said. "But he's a doctor."

"It doesn't matter what he does!" she said brightly. "Waist overalls are the newest fashion, for any man! Perfect for leisure, and they hold up better than anything. Men of all trades have been wearing them in Europe for the last couple of years."

I stepped closer, rubbing the coarse blue fabric with distaste. Carlisle might not bother much with his appearance, but even _he_ would laugh at being dressed like a factory worker or a cowboy. Still, if the fabric held up like it seemed it might, it would be perfect for hunting. I tugged gently at the stiff cotton, pleased with its resilience.

"I'll take eight pairs," I announced, rattling off the sizes and asking for two in each. The salesclerk fumbled for her pencil, and I repeated the sizes again, deciding to get a third pair for Emmett. Rosalie and Alice walked up to me as she left, their arms loaded with shoeboxes and tiny lingerie bags.

"What is _that_?" Rosalie asked, nodding toward the fabric in my hand.

"I thought Carlisle and the boys might like to try them for hunting. The salesclerk said they're becoming very popular, even for men who don't need them for work."

Alice's eyes unfocused for a moment, and she wrinkled her nose to match Rosalie's disapproval. "It looks like we'll all be wearing them eventually," she said, "though I can't imagine _why_. Ugh!"

Rosalie frowned as well. "I guess I can see where they'd be good for hunting, but they're hideous! Why would I ever wear something like that?"

"Women have worn waist overalls before, Rosalie," I reminded her. "Remember when we saw those Lady Levi's in that one magazine?"

"That was an ad for a dude ranch, Esme!"

The salesclerks brushed by us, her arms full of the boys' pants I had requested. "Excuse me," I said, catching her attention. "Do you have any of these in your ladies' department?"

"Not in stock," she answered. "I don't get too many requests for those. But I could order them, if you like."

I nodded. "I'll get two pairs each for the three of us." Rosalie huffed in disapproval, but she grudgingly gave her size after I gave mine. "Alice is new to our family," I explained. "You'll need to take her measurements."

"You may need a girl's size," the clerk said to Alice as she slipped the tape off of her neck. "Hold still, now." Alice froze into am uncomfortable-looking statue as the clerk knelt to measure her.

"Don't forget to breathe, dear," I said quietly.

Alice inhaled and exhaled nervously. "I've never touched a human before," she whispered back over the woman's head. "Except to kill them, of course."

"Alice!" I hissed in alarm. "Some humans have better hearing than others!"

Alice clamped her mouth shut, forgetting to breathe again the rest of the time. Rosalie just shook her head in embarrassment. It seemed that we would need to review the human charade a bit more with our Alice.

"I am _not_ wearing those," Rosalie whispered as the salesclerk scurried off.

"Just give them a try, dear. After all, Alice saw that we would all be wearing them eventually, and it's important for us to fit in with the times."

"Over my dead body!"

"Exactly!" Alice laughed.

.

.

.

We continued on until all the stores had closed. After the waist overalls incident, Rosalie and I gave Alice a quick review of the things that you really shouldn't say in front of humans, whether you thought they were listening or not. Then Rosalie perked up as we moved on to select Alice's clothes, deciding that her new sister was a "winter". We spent the rest of the evening shopping for Alice herself, and she enjoyed this new kind of "hunt" to the fullest, trying very hard not to use her visions. The only other thing we got for Jasper was a pair of sunglasses, in the hopes that he would soon be ready to start being around humans.

It was so wonderful to see the two girls getting along so well- _MY two girls_, I thought proudly. I worried a bit about the "confrontation" Alice had foreseen. I thought once or twice about calling home to see how it was going, but she reassured me that everything would be fine.

It seemed that our little family really _had_ just turned into a big family. I was sure there would be bumps in the road, and it would take us all some time to adjust to each other, especially in terms of Alice's and Jasper's gifts. And it seemed like Jasper might need some time before he was really ready to relax around all of us, to trust us and feel at home. And, truthfully, I felt a little nervous about him as well, now that he wasn't calming me anymore. Not that I worried about what he might do, so much as I worried whether he would be happy living with us. But it was obvious that Alice meant the world to him, literally. And it was clear that Alice was having the time of her life, being here. So maybe he would be all right. I would do my best to make him feel welcome, starting with the clothes.

I had five children, then. Five! And to think that I had thrown myself off that cliff, because of the emptiness inside of me. As dear as my children were, they could never replace the child I had lost. And this life wasn't perfect, not by a long shot. But this second chance had brought me so much joy, right from the moment I awoke and saw Carlisle standing there, looking nervous and hopeful as he held his hand out to me. I found a love that I had only dared dream about, as a human. I also found a son waiting for me, nearly a man himself but quietly aching for a mother's love. The fact that I had technically died hardly mattered; it was clear, even on that first day, that my true life was just beginning.

And now here I was, with as full a home as any mother could hope for. My heart swelled with love for our two new children, and with that old familiar hope, that Edward would find love someday. Maybe it was too much, to hope for a sixth child, but I hoped nonetheless. My life had felt complete again and again, as our family had grown. Surely it was all right to hope that someday, it would become complete just one more time.

But for now, I would leave the future to the future- or to Alice, as the case may be. For now, I would just count my blessings- all six of them.

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**And thus Alice's love of shopping was born! A little fluffier than my usual fare, but I hoped you all liked it. :)**


	13. 1949: Glory Days

**I'm glad you all liked the Esme outtake :) She's so sweet, isn't she? Now, meanwhile, at the other end of the spectrum...**

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**Maria POV**

"Get the last one," I ordered. "And hurry up. This reek is making me sick."

Paul nodded and disappeared. We had spent most of the night killing, and it would probably take a week to get the smell out of my hair. Back when I used to delegate this particular unpleasantness, I thought that the smoke had a sweet, breezy smell; but up close like this, the purple fog was oppressive. The bonfire was belching it out heavily now, with the addition of Carmena's pieces a moment ago. I moved back a few feet, my muscles twitching in warning as the fire grew bigger.

It had been one of the worst years yet. I hadn't even gotten the chance to try out my latest bunch of newborns in battle; they were just too wild, too uncontrollable. I had finally stooped to executing one of them in front of the others last week, and even _that_ hadn't calmed them down. I had flattered and threatened and promised and punished, but they were hopeless. It was time to wipe the slate clean, and start over. Again.

Sometimes, on nights like this, I was sick of it.

I wouldn't lose sight of my priorities, though. This was the only purpose I had left: vengeance. I had only had twenty-eight years with my mate… twenty-eight years too long, as far as our enemies had been concerned. Our coven had been a relatively peaceful one, and all our parents wanted to do was keep the territory that they had held for more than three centuries. We never tried to expand, and we never fought unless challenged.

Why couldn't they have just left us in peace?

I supposed I understood… now. My creator's creator had killed the mate of the leader of the Arizona coven, back in 1645. That was all the reason they needed. It didn't matter that none of us had actually been alive at the time; we were in the way, and our venomline was enough to doom us. I think they actually let me escape on purpose; they were sadistic like that.

Their mistake.

I was still scrambling to get Monterrey back for a third time. It was a strategic location, if I ever wanted to reach my goal. But it was more than that- all I wanted was my home, and all I needed was to walk right up to that piece of Arizona filth, my army at my back, and dismember him as slowly as possible. I would give each of my soldiers a piece of him to hold, and we would have a good time, letting him suffer in twenty places at once. Maybe for two days, if I could get my men to stop feeding for that long. Then we would have a party, complete with bonfire, and the state of Arizona would bleed itself dry for us… every party needed refreshments, after all. Then I would be at peace. _Then_ I could rest. But until that day came, I would fight. I would fight, lie, cheat, kill, and drink my way through the centuries, until I got satisfaction. I _needed_ satisfaction, and I needed power to get it.

The trouble was, I was no closer to my goal than I had been thirty years ago. In fact, I was further from it. After Jasper deserted, I was only able to hold onto Monterrey for another three months. I had always known that he was valuable, but I didn't realize _how_ valuable until I didn't have him anymore. Without his gift to keep the newborns semi-pacified, I had to execute a good half of the ranks, just to keep things manageable. And I had to do it _myself_. The smoke had been seen by a scout from the Guatemala coven, and that was that. I had been lucky to escape alone. The old vendetta had been reborn that night: get Monterrey back. Get _anything_ back. I couldn't even contemplate taking on Arizona until I had the bloodfields of Texas and Northern Mexico under my command. I had been careful to stick to the western coast of Mexico since then, quietly building a new army each year, experimenting with the size. Apparently, I wasn't much good at keeping more than ten around at a time. And to keep that many required one or two veterans from the previous year, to help me get the blood and keep things under control. This year had been particularly bad; the only fighting they had seen was among themselves. Another twelve months, _wasted_.

I was far enough away from the fire that I could smell Paul coming. He was reciting his lines, luring the last of the newborns closer to the fire, closer to me.

"And believe me, your strength has become legendary," he said soothingly in Carlos' ear. "Maria herself told me that you're the only one who she trusts for this mission."

"Where are the others?" Carlos asked, eyeing the fire worriedly. I usually kept my newborns unaware of the danger of fire, to make cleanup day easier. But the public execution last week had been a mistake. Carlos, and the others before him, knew what fire meant to our kind. He was almost twice my size, and always shirtless; we could never find humans big enough to clothe him properly. When I had changed him, I had thought this was it; this was going to be the year. But as it turned out, Carlos was only good at one thing; picking fights with his fellow soldiers. What a waste of good blood.

Paul laughed, slapping Carlos on the back like a true friend. "She sent them on a different mission," he said, leaning in conspiratorially. "She wanted the humans buried farther away this time. You, my friend, are the only one _not_ on digger duty tonight."

Carlos smiled shakily as Paul steered him closer towards me. I stepped out of the shadows, and Carlos tensed.

"Carlos," I purred. "I've got a job for you. And if you do well, you'll be _swimming_ in blood."

That was all it took. Carlos stood at attention, or a weak approximation of such. This was another thing I missed about the glory days with Jasper: the respect. He had had all sorts of tricks to keep our soldiers in line, but his gift notwithstanding, his example had actually been his greatest asset. He had carried himself so well, in those first few years. Our newborns had been… well, newborns, but at least he had gotten them to have at least an inkling of pride in themselves. Jasper's speeches had been the stuff of legend, even after he stopped believing his own words. He himself had never had the stomach for the realities of war, but at least he never let it show in front of the newborns. He just kept inspiring them, long after his own inspiration had died. If anything, he worked harder at it. He wanted to make their worthless lives worth something, knowing how short they would be. He seemed to think that if he worked hard enough with them, that I would spare them, let them "die honorably in battle", as he liked to put it. Sentimental fool. At least he never shirked his duty, or let the others see his weakness- he was lethal, and he made the others lethal. He made them believe in themselves- something I had once ridiculed him for. Now I saw how right he had been.

As the years went on, Jasper had suffered more and more, as his gift grew stronger. He was always complaining about feeling the humans' fear and horror, and feeling the newborn's sense of betrayal at cleanup time, and blah, blah, blah. I reminded him, over and _over_, that we all had a price to pay for victory. And when he stopped complaining, I was satisfied. I had thought he was finally ready to face reality again.

But then that idiot Peter had deserted, and Jasper just _let him go_. He had _known_ that Peter wasn't disposable; he wasn't valuable in the sense that Jasper was, but he was indispensible. Jasper knew that. And he had just _stood_ there, and watched his "friend" run off with his useless mini-mate. Jasper had waited several hours before coming back to the rest of us, and reporting the desertion with a trace of smugness; he had purposely given Peter time to get out of reach. Of course, he had paid the price for his treason- a far gentler one than he deserved. If it had been anyone else, I would have let the others tear him to shreds. But as morose as he had become, Jasper was still my greatest asset. I settled for merely scarring him; a slap on the wrist. It wasn't like he wasn't already covered in scars, anyway. Life went on, and he got back to work. He knew he had gotten off easy.

But that's the trouble with leaving traitors alive; you can't trust them. He got even more pathetic after that. His moods darkened further, which of course darkened my own. It wasn't _my_ fault he couldn't keep his gift to himself. He would go weeks at a time without speaking to anyone, except in training. He spent far too much time alone, staring off at nothing. I knew that it was only a matter of time before he would turn the others against me. He had already betrayed me once, and as much as I wanted to deny it, he was probably going to do it again. It was exactly what I would have done, if it were me. I knew I had to act. The trouble was, I couldn't kill him alone, and it was difficult to set anything up with the others without him feeling us out.

He saved me the trouble, in the end. One night he was there, and when the sun rose, he was gone. No farewell, no mutiny, nothing. Just gone. I had lived in absolute terror for the year that followed, certain that he had defected to the one of the neighboring covens, that he would lead an attack against me. As the months passed, and no attack came, I relaxed and got back down to business. But _this_ is how things were turning out, without Jasper at my side. _This_ is what he had left me with. A yearly gaggle of worthless newborns, no territory, and having to do my own dirty work.

Traitor.

"And what's more," I said, stepping closer to Carlos, "this mission comes with a special reward: feeding alone."

A happy growl rumbled in Carlos' throat, and he nodded eagerly, standing taller. Feeding alone was one of the best positive motivators I used: the rare chance to feed at your own pace, without having to defend your kill. To do whatever you liked with the humans you were given, and no questions asked. Carlos had been given this particular reward only twice; he was one of the stupider ones.

Paul silently assumed his position behind Carlos, who had all but forgotten his comrade, and the fire off to our left. Paul's job tonight had been to hold, while I beheaded. The signal was when I said "the mission is". He gave me the nod, telling me he was ready.

"Carlos," I whispered, leaning closer. "The…"

I paused, frowning as I stared at Carlos' enormous biceps. We shouldn't have saved him for last- we should have kept another of the Novembers around a little longer, so that I wouldn't have to help. It was a matter of personal pride that I had no visible scars, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Paul blinked, his hands frozen halfway to Carlos' shoulders. _Well?_ he mouthed to me.

Oh, what was the use? It wasn't worth risking my complexion to get rid of this one. And Carlos was strong, even with his deterioration. Maybe he _should_ be left to "die honorably in battle", as Jasper would have put it. I could keep him and Paul around as I started up the next batch. In fact, that might be better; if I felt, later on, that Carlos was manageable enough, I would get him to end Paul for me. That way, once I started up again, I wouldn't have a lieutenant who knew too much, like Paul did now.

"Forget it," I snapped, walking back toward the fire. Paul snatched his hands back down to his sides as Carlos turned around, looking confused and thirsty.

"I want the blood," he growled. "Now what's the mission?"

"Quiet. There may have to be a change of plans. Let me think for a minute." I started pacing, and Paul quietly ordered Carlos back to the camp. He waited a few moments before spinning to face me.

"Why are you keeping him?" he demanded. "I thought we were going to start over."

"I said _quiet_!" I hissed, feinting toward him. He jumped back and returned to the camp himself, muttering as he went. Fantastic. Now I had a thirsty three-hundred pound brute who was waiting for a reward that I couldn't deliver on, and a lieutenant who had just seen me have a moment of weakness, of uncertainty. Not a good combination. They would both need to be ended now, and I wasn't in a position to end either of them. I stormed back toward the camp after them; I couldn't give them the chance to be alone together. Paul would tell Carlos the truth, and then I would be the one in the fire. I had to think of something, and fast.

This was absurd. I wouldn't have these problems, if Jasper were here. I wouldn't, not for a second, let liabilities like this exist. And even if I did, Jasper would catch them the moment they started to plot. What I wouldn't _give_ to go back to those days, back in our glory in Monterrey. That was back when Jasper didn't question everything I did, back when he was only too happy to drown himself in the spoils of victory. That was before his gift had grown strong enough to torment him, before the Peter fiasco. Before he had become a brooding, mutinous burden. Before he had become a liability, himself.

At least, that was what I had thought at the time. He had been gone almost ten years now, and I hadn't heard anything about one of the covens suddenly growing in power. It seemed that he hadn't defected at all; he had simply deserted. He had just run away, like Peter. And it was actually in keeping with the weariness that had been growing on him for the second half of his tenure. He was probably out there alone somewhere, nomadic and _free_. Which meant that he knew the truth now, that our Southern Wars were really just that: southern.

He had heard the term once during battle, back when he was new; thankfully, he had slaughtered his opponent before asking any more questions. Innocent, stupid boy that he was, he came back and asked _me_ what it meant. Keeping myself as calm as possible, I told him that every region of the worldwide conflict had its own name: the Southern Wars, the Chinese Wars, the Himalayan Wars. I had come up with that particular lie on the spot, and it was so ludicrously funny that my emotions gave nothing away. Jasper bought it hook, line and sinker. I was just glad that he had never bothered to ask again, because I probably wouldn't have been able to pull it off a second time, not with the way his gift had grown after his newborn year.

It didn't matter now; he had long since found out the truth. And the fact that he hadn't come back to kill me –either alone or with his own army- meant that he had either gotten himself killed, which was very unlikely, or that he had just decided to wash his hands of the whole business, and live in peace.

_Peace!_ As if he had any _business_ surviving apart from me! I was his creator, and he owed me his life three times over now! I had spared him from the slow decay of mortality. I had spared him from the 1863 crop. And I had spared him a third time after the Peter thing, when I had every right to end his miserable, treacherous life. I had spared him all these times, because he had been valuable. I had never had a better right hand, a better fighter, a better lieutenant. And now, ten years later, I could see, beyond the shadow of a doubt, how _truly_ valuable he had been. I truly couldn't do this on my own. I was _never_ going to get anywhere without him.

I needed him.

The plan formed itself quickly, as I took the last steps back toward camp. I had never been a patient woman before, but there was a first time for everything. I would find him, if it took the rest of the twentieth century. I was free, for the moment; no territory to speak of, and I would be travelling light, with just Paul and Carlos along for the ride. I would tell him that everything had been a misunderstanding, that we had just needed some time apart to cool off. I would remind him of the glory days of Monterrey, and how richly he had fed back then. I would promise him anything he wanted: blood upon blood, his own territory, more direct control over his men, the right to hunt for himself, anything. I would even promise him my body, if it came to it- not that he had ever fallen for that one before. He _was_ an empath. But I would do whatever it took to get him back home, where he belonged.

There was the small matter of him not wanting to come back, but that was where Carlos and Paul would come in. If he was alone, and refused to come along, we would dismember him and _take_ him back home. I would leave him in pieces until he _begged_ to be allowed back into my service. And if he had found a mate, so much the better. I would bide my time, and have Paul and Carlos kill her, and have them make it look like the Arizona coven had done it. It would be tricky, and I would have to avoid him asking me directly whether I was involved, but it could be done. Then he would have some _real_ motivation to keep fighting. Then, he would finally understand.

Paul and Carlos drew apart quickly as I approached, with Paul looking guilty and Carlos looking afraid. Damage control first, then. This would be a gamble, but the odds were in my favor. Paul had only told Carlos the truth a moment ago, and it seemed like I had interrupted before Carlos had the chance to take it all in. He would, in his uncertainty, be unsure whether to move against me, or defend me. I snapped my gaze back over to Paul, who swallowed: guilty as charged. And the fact that he wasn't attacking immediately meant that he didn't know if he could count on Carlos yet. My odds had just gone up.

This was going to be too easy.

"You've told Carlos about how we killed the others, then?" I said, looking pleased. Paul opened and shut his mouth, completely thrown off guard. "Good. Then I hope you realize, Carlos, that I decided to keep you alive not out of charity, but out of necessity. There _is_ a mission, but it's far greater than anything _Paul_ knows about. And it will take some time. But when we're through, feeding alone is going to be the least of your rewards."

"Fine words," Paul said carefully. He edged toward my left slowly, and Carlos sucked in his breath, looking as uncertain as I had hoped.

"I wasn't speaking to _you_, Paul," I said seductively. "I was speaking to Carlos. This mission doesn't require three. Especially when one of those three is someone I'm not sure I can trust."

Now Carlos was really confused, and Paul was horrified. He was only two years old, himself, and as far as he knew, this was the first time I had ever formed an army. He believed that I had handpicked him from the start, that I had never loved before him, that we would rule together.

Idiot. Now that I was going to have Jasper back, he would be the first to burn.

"Of course," I continued, turning my back to them, "I would _like_ it to be three. It would make success that much more likely. But I can't be looking over my shoulder every second, Paul." I spun around and attacked, pinning him to the ground by his throat. As I had known he would, Carlos darted around me, gripping Paul's head and waiting for my command. I sat up on top of him, pinning his hands down.

"I would never betray you," Paul gasped, his eyes wild. "I was just… you didn't stick to the plan. I was afraid."

"And you should be," I hissed. Carlos gripped Paul's head harder, and he shrieked, struggling uselessly. "This world is full of dangers, gentlemen. I am far older than either of you know, and I have spared you both from the horrors of War, until now. But times are changing, and it is time for us to act. We are going to build the greatest army this land has ever seen. We will retake Mexico, and beyond. We will thrive, and our banquet will stretch from ocean to ocean. But in order to do that, we need to go on a little trip first. I wonder how many of us there will be?"

"Three!" Paul shouted. "Maria, please!"

I pretended to consider for a moment, letting him beg a bit more. Then I sighed delicately as I stood back up. "It looks like we'll have some company, Carlos." Carlos released Paul, who jumped to attention. Now that was more like it.

"What kind of a trip?" Carlos asked.

"We need to find a man called Jasper," I explained. "I created him, back in 1863. He is the greatest fighter that the Wars has ever seen. He is also an empath, and his gift enables him to control the emotional instabilities in newborns, and to strike fear in his opponents during battle." I would need to slowly work up to the truth if I was going to bring them North… and if I was going to get them anywhere near Jasper's gift.

"Where is this Jasper?" Carlos asked distastefully.

"He is retired from combat," I said grandly. "But as his creator, I have decided that his retirement is over."

Both men grinned, both at my obvious lack of romantic interest in Jasper, and in the new level of trust they thought I was putting in them. "And where will we find him?" Paul asked.

"As far from here as possible, I imagine. We will start at the top, and work our way down. Gentlemen, we're going to Canada."

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***ominous music***

**So... yes, the Calgary incident will be in the 1950 story :) Thank you to ColdOnePaul for this awesome idea! Also, thanks to Chicory for her story, _Fear of Fire_, which is also about the Calgary incident, and very well done (at least the parts I've read so far). Her writing is a bit darker than mine, but we are agreed on one thing: I highly doubt that Maria just "happened" to be in Canada.**


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